Particle of Beethoven

I will not share my particle of Beethoven
Not the way he did anyhow
The muse of song is in me
Music is always in my head
I used to think it was mine
Now I think it is his
He was able to portray the music in his head into notes
I can only hum and sing made up verses
But I let the music fly on the wind
I never bottle it up and keep it to share
Most every song is forgotten
And new ones perpetuate
Am I doing Beethoven a disservice by not sharing his speck of muse that’s inside me?
I think not.
I am enjoying it, I love it and cherish the moments when the music comes
Which in most times is to fill a dull void in the day
For example, waiting for the bus
Beethoven chose to share—that was his calling—not mine
It is by pure chance that my mother inhaled an atom of his genius and passed it on to me as I floated in her belly
My calling today is to share with you that

I harbour a particle from Beethoven