The Passion, The Fire
To begin, with no fear of what will be born.
The hands, long, slender, delicate hands, caressing heach key, each gentle movement a ripple and a splash, the music flowing from them, coaxed into being.
The humbly seated figure a vessel to the emotion, the sound, the being.
White, black, white, black translated into glorious rays of color.
The seated figure sways, no longer held by its own will, but drawn to movement by expression as each nuance of beauty is gently tugged out by an insistant urgancy.
And the stream is now a river, wide and deep, sound rising and falling, building, tumbling down in a waterfall of release.
And now the figure gives no thought to itself, wrapped in the journey created, leaning over the glowing keys, head down, heart in sync with the tale into which it is pouring life and truth.
The music is pooling, settling quickly, nearly to a stop.
Sad, brooding
Wondering a doubtful
Soft, plaintive notes harmonize a sobbing chord, another, dripping crystal tears of sound into the silence, shattered and broken yet achingly alive, pulsing with hurt.
Slowly their tone changes, the wonderment growing, spreading its fine wings as the fingers creating them splay across their gleaming instrument.
They dance hopefully, and the trembling parched moment is awash - no, flooded - with hope.
The hope is green and vibrant, hand in hand with dawning joy, a crescendo of animated sound accompanying them.
I know, not finished, but I'd like to know how it is now..maybe it is almost complete..
- Lady__Blaze You can join Unsolved Mysteries and post your own mysteries or
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Halloween is Right around the corner.. .
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