My fingers lite on the keys,
Black and white.
Compressing these makes a melodious sound.
Now my fingers flow smoothly across them;
A song is born.
My body sways with it.
Closing my eyes,
I become the song:
The keys, the music and me,
Become one thing;
The music is me,
I am the music.
My voice joins the chorus,
Bringing more melody.
I feel it in my heart,
I feel it in my soul.
From note to note,
I feel as though
They connect in their own way,
Separate from me.
I let go of the keys.
Instantly the music stops.
I open my eyes and beg the keys to continue.
They don’t.
I kick it,
I smack it,
I bang on the keys;
But no song is sung.
I cry and cry,
Until I realize that I must play.
That song was mine,
Not the keys’.
My fingers lite on the keys,
Black and white.
Compressing these makes a melodious sound.