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: “Your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions.” 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 pianist’s 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!