The Piano

Wayward Motions

The Piano sits still.

Beneath your gaze it

makes no sound.

But the Raindrops

force your fingertips to

bleed your soul upon the


keys that have played a

thousand different melodies

And not once ever begged

for anything.

Not from Bach, Beethoveen,

you, nor me.

The Rain is hard driven,

I close my eyes and listen.

I try to imagine I'm being

pulled by the Undertow,

pulled into distant dreams,

Where songs are


Where the wind blows

and can be seen-

Where the immortal muse

finds her inspiration-

Where 'I had a dream'

dances within reality-

Where somewhere over

the Rainbow troubles

really do melt like lemon


Where tears fall dry and

sickness doesn't


As your fingers are

dancing across the keys

and I finally open my eyes to


I see those thoughts and dreams

as real as You

and me.

You bring them to life

The piano opens the way-

And I just sit here and watch;

savoring every Drop, ever Note-

Remembering this Day.

And then once again

the piano sits still.

Beneath your gaze it

makes no sound-

I can still see and I can still hear

the music; Your music.

It is always there .

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this for my dad and was going to give it to him as part of a birthday gift... but he died shortly after I wrote it. (I made some changes to it after he passed away).

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Jake Sleutel's picture

this is sooo good, you really touched on your connection with your dad and if you placed this poem on his headstone he will get it somehow. Thanx for sharing your honest emotions with us...