The nature of jazz is abstract, expressionist, improvisational,
It is formless in its shape,
Chaotic in its perfection,
Syncopated in its precision,
Jazz presses open barred doors and barricaded streets,
It breaks free of all bonds, soars skyward,
Falling and flying toward its elusive home,
Jazz is all at once, truth, philosophy,
A broken heart, a living thing,
It is an unforgettable memory of desperation,
Escaping through buzzing lips, unabated breath, calloused hands,
Its many instruments simultaneously shouting,
Whispering of its eminent exodus,
Jazz is the mythical, mysterious, dark bard
Singing the story of his people,
Sharing their sorrow and joy, their heartbreak and hope,
Their tragedy and triumph, their death and their life,
It is a story sung not just to one people,
But echoing through history to the soul of humanity,
In a clear and timely voice never before experienced,
Jazz is the essence of will,
To be truly heard, to be truly free.

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