It’s not me, it’s you

It's not my accordion that moves your feet aimlessly
It's your smile that makes me want to sing

It's not my rhythm that gives you permission
It's your welcoming of my drum

It's not my question
It's your answer
Not my song
But your open ears

Somewhere in you
there's an accent
and it begs to be unleashed

A melody that our grandfathers chanted round the fire
an urge to untame

Don't condemn my wrong-notes as I a stumble through this keyboard
I promise I won't stare at your two left feet

Remember,
It's not me being tired, poor or yearning to breath free

It's you making feel home

-Gregorio Uribe