Chapter 45 : Poetry : The musical keys

Fingers move gently over the smooth keys,

Each sound a quiet echo of something once felt.

Black and white, brush against each other,

Like the moments that blend into one another.

I touch the past, let it linger for a while,

A quiet melody of joy and loss.

The future is there, just out of reach,

A quiet hum beneath the surface.

My dream of playing it flawlessly,

Occupies my mind endlessly,

As I play, I dream more,

More, more and more.

Life unfolds like a song, sometimes harmonious,

Other times filled with quiet pauses,

But in every note, in every breath,

There is a way forward, a quiet strength.

Each key holds a choice, a path,

And in playing, I know where I belong.

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