Monday, October 13, 2014

When I Played The Piano....

I sat down on the bench,
Reached out to play,
There were people all around,
But I did it anyways.

My hands, they traveled up the keys --
They danced, they soared, they twirled,
My fingers, they played, happy then sad,
Slow, then faster they whirled...

The music, it seemed to run away;
The notes, their sound was fleeting.
My hands, they kept moving,
Away from each other, then once again meeting.

I neared the end of the song,
I tapped the last key,
And those others and I listened to
The music, which was floating and free.

I did not care what those people thought,
My music, it frees my mind.
Those others, they can mock me if they want,
But when I play, I go other places, never knowing what I will find.

1 comment:

  1. Hi Mattie,
    Awesome poem. Sounds like playing music is as healing for you, as prayer-singing is for me. To explain the places it takes my heart and soul....there just aren't enough vocabulary words to pin it down.
    Glad you have your music. AND glad you use your pen, grin (aka keyboard).
    Much Love and Warm Support flowing steadily.....
    Ms Lu