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88 Keys
June 28, 2009
88 keys in my two hands
And cold metal on the ground
A night-black wall before my eyes
Music, music all around.
Crystals tinkling in soft midair
Rivers running dark and deep
The flow of wind across my skin
My choice, to give or to keep.
A radiant light from sky above
Reflecting the ocean crests
Ribbons twisting around our heads
Rising, falling, in our chests.
Keys, 88 keys in my hands
Unlocking the hearts and minds
of humans living on this Earth
Keys to the secrets of time.
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This article has 3 comments.
tapioca said...
on Jul. 8 2009 at 2:56 pm
Another beautiful poem!
ellevaughn said...
on Jul. 7 2009 at 1:45 am
Wow--i love this! Beautiful rhythm and inner tension.
G G said...
on Jul. 7 2009 at 1:30 am
I think this poem is about your feelings as you play your piano, heh? Love, Granova
