The season of Fall soars nowhere,
grey doesn’t speak
It can feel like that sometimes…until the light comes
Light, is the warm voice
of our restless sun.
Like the fiery speech
of a dancer’s body.
Spring begins softly
her fingers are as gentle on ivory
aspen and birch…
as are piano keys played
by a woman, with a cautious heart.
reaching and falling.
Where does it all start?
Why does it end?
And betwixt the two, how will we mend?
from your life.
Sit as if in front of a piano…
Compose an aliveness of melody that melts away
silence from any room…
Strike the keys with vulnerability,
and you just may chase the fearful dark
from the corners of a human heart.
Wrest that bit of sunlight
from the grasp of this winter
and you hold the gift of accompaniment….
Live the music
that has found you
and even gray will shine
will bear good news.
The cradle to grave epitaph
from your one way life path…,
let it read “I loved, I played, I shared”.
This poem was inspired by a piano piece I recently heard, composed by Kaitlin Houlditch Fair, titled “Able”. It can be heard HERE. It was also inspired by a good many acquaintances and friends who currently have just lost someone through death, or who are close to someone who is ill.