language of the people, musicWhen you get a song stuck in your head, does your day revolve around it, as if it’s your own person theme song? On Friday, are you singing this power song to launch yourself into the weekend, with decisions as bold as the drums in your head?

On Sunday, is your theme song still there? Or are you powering down, humming a song from the morning church service or beginning your dreaded mantra of must-get-ready-for-the-workweek-laundry’s-still-not-done songs?

I love the way music calls to people. I watch the way it beckons little kids to dance, or gives some of us nostalgia to the point of tears, or the way it dares us to buy that expensive glass of wine or decadent piece of chocolate that’s not on the diet because we deserve to savor. Music’s effect is not lost even on people like me who have so many words in our heads at all times that music has a hard time fitting in.

I see the way music moves. I see it influence, inspire, incite, and even sooth. Musicians urge with sound the way writers move with printed words. It’s not as glamorous for the writers, of course, because everyone uses words, whereas not everyone feels they can create with music. Since Dante, writers have been writing in the language of the people, the common tongue. And I happen to agree that Dante was right in making that bold change from Latin to Italian with his Inferno. Poetry should be accessible to the people, without an intermediary. Words should speak, and they should make waves.

So I watch the music, the newest language of the people. I watch the Friday people with their music, and I watch the Sunday people with theirs, and on Monday, like I do every day, I sit down to make the words line up on the page in the hopes that they will inspire, like a mantra or a song.

Jody Brown is the author of Upside Down Kingdom, and is a multi-blogger, poet, and traveler. Her current writing projects, including her daily blog endeavor, #Project365, can be found at