Heard | Teen Ink

Heard

October 14, 2020
By AA22 BRONZE, Bethesda, Maryland
AA22 BRONZE, Bethesda, Maryland
3 articles 2 photos 0 comments

Heard


Quiet.


My fingers shake.


Bows are ready. 


Tongues rest on reeds. 


Anticipating the moment


the baton 


falls,


and time suddenly 


begins.

 

The clock hands wake from their monotonous


ticking and stretch with the rubato


of Chopin, leap with the brilliance of Bach,


and stroll in the heavens of Debussy, 


answering to the beckonings of the instrumentalists.

 

The swarm of notes surrounds me 


like tiny rivulets,


as I hammer the keys into 


buzzing strings.

 

Rolling melodies soar across 


bright bass lines, harmonies


flow in and out of my heart.

 

The trembling disappears from my fingers,


but the music shakes the room, 


vibrating in sync with nodding heads and tapping feet.

 

I sit up straight, 

 

driven 


by this special gut-tightening--


A surge that begins to crest, 


rocketing up, 


carrying me toward that inevitable, awful peak, 


the thought of crashing down upon shore 


to cold, dark silence


dangerously close 


to ushering everything 


to a complete halt. 


The author's comments:

I have played the piano for ten years, and I was inspired to write this poem by a lifelong love for music.


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This article has 1 comment.


Afra ELITE said...
on Feb. 22 2022 at 1:39 am
Afra ELITE, Kandy, Other
103 articles 7 photos 1824 comments

Favorite Quote:
"A writer must never be short of ideas."<br /> -Gabriel Agreste- (Fictional character- Miraculous)

Nice work getting this lovely poem of editor's choice 👌🏻 😀 😊