I have dreamt this dream for several nights now.  It started off in colour; blues, greens, whites and yellows and with only the sound of beautiful piano music and the barest of floors.  Each night the vision grew in detail but faded in colour, until now it is in black, white and gray with the actual colour only implied by my memory of it.

The scene is part of a room, a corner, in a very large and majestic house.  The floor is hardwood with no carpet.  The walls are a very light, warm white with somewhat high ceilings.  I am standing (you cannot see me) looking towards the corner of the room where there are French doors.  The door trim is black.  The doors are open.  It is night and the moonlight is streaming in the doors and in a window, off slightly to the left.  Chiffon curtains frame the doorway and blow in the slight, cool, night breeze.  It is a warm summer’s night and the fresh air is scented with an ocean fragrance.

To my left, just barely in the picture, is a glossy, black baby grand piano.  The ebony of the piano is a sharp contrast to the soft white of the sheer curtains as the breeze wafts them towards the heavenly tones.  The music coming from the piano is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.  The notes reach into my chest and engulf my heart.  The pianist cannot be seen.  He is just out of the frame of my mind’s eye.  My heart tells me it is he.

I awaken from my dream and lie there, still, with my eyes closed.  Not wanting to lose the tranquility, I re-feel the dream again and again.  In the foggy abyss between dreamland and being fully awake, I imagine him sitting at the piano.  His hair falls in loose curls as he is slightly bent over the keys.  His fingers fly over the ivory as he plays with passion and heart.  His love of the music is evident.

He is wearing a crisp, white tuxedo shirt and black morning suit with the tails falling over the back of the piano bench.  He has not yet adorned the formal tie needed to complete the ensemble.  Or maybe he has already removed it.

This is the artist’s private time for peace and composure.  As he closes the piece of music, he raises his face to the moonlight.  His moist eyes glisten in the silver glow.  His face is relaxed and calm.  As he slowly closes his eyes, a soft, contented smile graces his lips and his body sighs.  He has found the completion he seeks, in his music.