I hear the piano playing softly
pulling me from these rutted plains
into a moist green meadow
a vision of a flowing brook down the hill
makes me believe the words of the Prophet:
βYour old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions.β
yes, I am old, but I see and feel the rising gentle treble notes
lighten my leaded limbs
awaken my spirit
and ****** me into the realms.
It is the touch and glide of the pianistβs fingers
across the ivory skin of the keys
that transports me
in the waning hours of this day.
How sweet it is!
I started out this day in the dark valley, but this is the way I end it. Joy!