To me it seems

that life has

a reoccuring theme

a constant, nagging question

"When you grow up

what in the world

are you going to be?"

big smiles peer down

on innocent, tiny faces

as they cheerily inform you

they're going to one day

land on Mars

but paths diverge from spacy daydreams

as reality noses its merry way

into your wildest dreams

smiling faces turn serious

when they ask

"you're growing up

what in the world

are you going to be?"

and though I don't have

the slightest idea

where in five years I will be

what I do have

is an action plan

and a brightly shining dream

that dream, for me

is to be a musician

to fill concert halls with golden sound

to color the silence

that giant, blank canvas

painting aural pictures all around

empty practice rooms await me

chair and music stand at the ready

for me to spend countless hours

playing my pieces

again and again

private lessons

and orchestra rehearsals

constantly expanding my repertoire

until one day

I'll be able to say

that I have played it all

and so when inquisitive minds

throw out that famous question

"you're all grown up

what in the world

did you decide to be?"

I can inform them

with a bright, proud grin

I'm a professional horn player

I am living my dream