Slipping off the luscious ivory 
Tumbling fingers melting to nature's symphony 
A dip here, a hustle there 
The strings bent in their own misery 
But a gentle uprising, still beginning 
Coursing
            Burning
                      Waiting 
The pulsing anger in the soulful sound 
Ebbing away gently to be bound 
By the shackles of self, isolated limitations 
Flowing reflectively in its melodious imitations 
A broken heart looking for solace
 But finding music instead 
Tinkles hopefully
                          Chiming
                                    Turning 
Realizing that it's too soon to be dead...