It is silent, serene,
a bird chirps outside,
and a gentle breeze blows in.

You glance around the room,
and your eyes come to rest upon the shining,
black wood.

It calls to you,
and you yearn to answer that call,
yet you hang back, hesitate.
Its been so long and you're unsure,
but before you know it,
you're feet have carried you over.

Gingerly you graze the smooth surface.
A chill runs through you,
it feels so right.
One after another, your fingers slide down the edge,
and suddenly music fills the air.

You can't control your grin,
the ebb and flow of each note is like fresh air
upon your too warm face.

You know as the song begins to end,
and your fingers slow down ,
that this will always be a part of you,
something you can never lose,
and never live without.

Piano is what makes you, you.