Thursday, June 12, 2014

The sound that beauty made

A poem born out of playing piano this evening.

The sound that beauty made

I had forgotten the sound that beauty made
The soul within a song
It's sound was an echo
Lost in the storm
Notes swallowed whole
In the wind's wild fury
But memories traced across manuscript paper
That familiar touch returned
With delicacy and hesitance
I pressed down gently
Leaping up at the touch of the note
Another finger joined and then another
Two hands playing together
In glorious harmony
This was magic
Beautiful and coarse
Smooth and rough
New and old
Woven in rich, sumptuous strands
A tapestry for the ears
An epic for the mind
Ebbing and flowing
Pitching and diving
Soaring and racing
Here was beauty
Melody was its name
Rhythm its creaking hull
And I the willing captain
Steering her through the storm
Though sometimes I could have sworn
I was merely a passenger
Watching the ship steer her own course
Buoyed upon music's vast and tremulous ocean
Coursing over my ears
Beauty flowed through my fingers
Soaking me up in its love and fire
Its firey passion overwhelming me
Throwing me, embracing me,
Reassuring me, leading me through

Here was my expression,
Here was my my voice,
My thoughts and wishes
Hopes and dreams
Made real
My whisper become a word
And that word grew in power
Until my fingers became the melody
My body lost within its rhythms

Yes, I had forgotten the sound that beauty made
But here
In this moment
My voice was heard
The sweet sound beat upon my very soul
And its tremulous beauty returned
With one foot upon the pedal
Its beauty held sway once more
As together, we rode and weathered the storm


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