The Piano's Gift

My fingers find the comfort of a familiar embrace
in the keys of a piano;
black, white,
each key with the potential for greatness and romantic synergy
beneath my touch.

A need to speak without words,
to give and to receive
is the magic bond between the piano and I;
alone, no-one hears me but the piano,
and I need no-one but the piano.

Embraced by the piano,
I dance the bright and cheery counterpoint of Bach
and sigh the melancholy waltzes of Chopin,
finding a way to transform the emotions of a day
from ghosts into mourning doves,
and smiles into woven gold.

In that small moment of time,
I awaken sleeping music from the piano
and it in turn restores to me
my humanity;
I begin to feel again,
to thaw from numbness and superficiality,
to remember what I have lost or forgotten.

I tell the piano how much I have missed it
with the help of Bach and Chopin,
and it assures me that all is forgiven
as it sends me on my way with this poem in my heart.