My life is one of melody, beginning with my father.

He quickly introduced me to the classics in music,

Iconic figures like Al Green and Stevie Wonder

made me entranced with the magic of notes.

I soon listened on my own, formulating my own love

Of the music I found, it quickly became my life.

But soon other things began to interfere in life.

I began to listen to less music with my father.

My devotion to rhymes and beats transformed to love

For other things. I now had no more time for music.

Instead of analyzing harmonies, I wrote school notes.

“When will I get back to my love?” I would wonder.

Oftentimes I would daydream in class and wonder,

Without the music I crave, what will make me happy in life?

I would walk down to my dad scribbling music notes

With a precision that only he, my father,

Could achieve. It seemed as if this mastery of music

Came naturally to him. Maybe because it was his first love.

Maybe this was my sign to reignite my own love.

At this point, I could no longer stand to wonder

What I would become without music.

I realized that music will always be a part of my life. 

After a while I began to listen to more music with my father.

I could now juggle musical analysis and school notes.

My new found balance is something my dad notes

As something had to go through to maintain his love

For music. He sees himself in me. Like father, 

Like daughter. I could now wonder

At the marvel of melodies, giving me life.

I move to the beat of my own tune, my own music.

It had always been more than just music.

To me, it works in tandem with emotion. Takes note

Of it to give you a new perspective on life.

A powerful tool to fuel hatred or love.

I listen with my dad to Stevie Wonder

In gratitude. Because I learned this all from my father.