One solitary key
Wood worn, ivory cracked
An artifact; vertebrae fossil
Of a time when hands
Danced across spine
Some pianos go to graveyards
Bleached skeletons unburied
Desiccated by the sun
Only memories of
Taut strings remain
Last night, five rows from
A glossy black Steinway
Heritage craft generations
Royal lineage gold embossed
There sat a man in tails
Dressed in his best
He pulled a handkerchief
From a tuxedo pocket
Wiping his brow
He swayed softly
As singing strings
Pulled at our souls
When it was time to begin
He took a breath
In it I saw
Holy prayers offered
On the altar of
Wood and bone
Auditorium held spellbound
By awesome skill
And peerless creation
Resurrecting Chopin
Alive again and thriving
Music survives through disciples
Piano Concerto #1
Sacrosanct dedication
Well-spent years
Not one wasted
When fingers rot
Upon timely demise
Eternal, silent repose
In dignified death
The bones of his hands
Will lie six feet under
Hard-won mastery
Will be all but forgotten
Until pupils, known and foreign
Hold their breath
Lay offerings
In holy chambers
Before exhaling a Nocturne
Opening heavenβs gates
To partake in
The communion of
Sacred and sublime
Music oxygenates blood
Infusing life beyond
Mundane muck and mire
We are all descendants of
Master craftspeople
Reincarnated into new flesh
Bones turn to dust
Wooden keys to ash
Sheet music to pulp
All that will be left
Are the notes
Commanding eternal angels
To herald their song
Long after we are gone
About the Creator
Aspen Marie
In love with life and all of its foibles.
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Comments (11)
Beautiful.
Very beautiful description and imagery. The picture is great.
This was really quite good, and I liked it a lot. Love the theme of music that connects souls one to another across time.
Unusual and very descriptive, I'm lost in my own imagination when reading your poem, congratulations on Top Story xx
Back to say congratulations on your Top Story! ππππππ
Absolutely gorgeous poetry! Congratulations on your top story!
Oops/ Was going to say, Back to say, Lassie, congrats. Then realised I didn't comment originally. Oh well. Commence babble. This is stunnning - love like Krysha the symphonic description of music and the deserved beauty and praise given to a piano. As ever, proving us mere mortals that you are some kind of higher plains wordsmith we should usher in with due respect. And ganchos to the back of the knees. Obviously. Cos, I a prick. Loved this and congrats.
Wow, such a symphony to describe the music and beauty of a piano. My grandfather would play for us when I was a child and I was always captivated. Very well written!
A well-wrought poetic meditation with a picture evocative of the theme!
I especially loved how you said that music oxygenates our blood. It's soooo true. Loved your poem!
Have to ask, whereβs the picture from?