Music has the ability to pick us up and take us to new
places. It also can carry us back to favorite times. It can be soothing,
arousing, or bury us under the beat of distant tribal drums.
I often write with quiet notes playing in the background. I
find they help to unlock the spirits.
The Porcelain
Piano (copyright 2016) is a new poem that evolved from one of these
sessions after a particularly difficult day. The difference was that, this
time, I put the pen down, and the solitary piano placed notes before me that
told stories that had been written in the thin ether that is life.
Glenn K. Currie
The Porcelain Piano
The waves lifted me.
Lighter than air
balloons
Rose over the
mountains
Into the clouds,
Then floated
Down the stairs of my childhood,
Leaving notes
I wish I had written.
They painted pictures
In the wind:
Impressionist works
That filled a moment,
Then faded.
Black and white keys,
Transposed, solid to
liquid,
So I could drink
until drunk.
Until tears
Had torn, refreshed
and healed,
And the waves could
finally
Wash away the
mountains.
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