So, as I am packing, I found an old poem I wrote when I was a teenager …It was published in the book titled, The Edge of Twilight by the National Library of Poetry, pp. 531. It was for a poetry contest that I did not win at the time. Now that I am giving my childhood piano to the church down the street, it seems fitting that I found this poem to share.
Hear the Music
The shadow dances,
under the spotlight and stretched out across the hardwood floor.
As the concert pianist displays the emotion of each moment,
– up and down, side to side –
Her shadow rides on the wings of soaring eaglesgracefully flying through the air …
As the fingers tickle across the keys,
Her shadow is like the ballerina running on her toes.
Although the melody echoes through the room and to our ears,
I hear not what you hear …
The familiar tunes of Mozart, Beethoven and Bach.
Instead the crescendo, decrescendo, forte …
The hammers gently pressing, sometimes pounding on the metal strings.
Instead, the shadow dances …
Shh! Listen carefully!!
As the music vibrates across the floor and through me,
Rhythm! Beat! My Senses Alive!
The shadow dances …
Can you hear it? I do.
Hear the music. Encore!!!
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