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As I begin to play, with a passion, my eyes closed, my head swaying gently as my hands dance in their own way, lingering on that one note.
I play what I would expect to hear if my heart could sing. I play as quickly as I can, hearing what I would think would make it all go away..
..I feel the notes drown me in a world where it's soothing...where I am complete and I have it all...but in the reverberations of the last echoing note,
my sonata comes crashing down and I open my eyes as tears splatter the ivory.
I look around quickly as the last echos die out in the chapel...the only light the sun through the stained glass panels of God...
I am not complete and so much cannot be cured by music when the music can only echo when I cease to play it...but my melody..once an orchestra now just a single instrument...can only do one part...
just the melody of an echo long gone...too soft to hear...and I know something of how a piano must feel as it looks at the fire place to see sheet music being used as kindling smoke signaling the end of some song that you thought it would take too long to learn..
. and as I stand from my spot in the dark...I feel it all come through me...my heart swelling as my sonata cascades into a full blown orchestra of memory... and I am in a beautiful silk gown conducting gracefully.
...how glorious it was to be me...
but it is all just smoke and echos...and I am just a girl...with one instrument..
.and only memories...as I pour my heart out into my one passionate recreation of an orchestral piece into just one part...just one melody..