my fingers rest above the piano

and their shadows trace my presence

upon its ivory white keys. i

inhale, my fingers rising gently, and i

exhale, pushing into the keys,

ringing several notes at a time.

if i press with more force, i’ll bring about

life in the piano itself;

its voice sharpens at accents and

its breath quickens at staccatos.

it drapes the music around itself with elegance

and takes strides with its chin held high.

the piano depends upon me for expression,

and i depend on it for my

purpose and passion.

music becomes alive within me,

pacing my breaths and

counting my steps.

we’re inseparable.

we take another breath.

we breathe out and harmonize again.