The Piano

I saw the piano sitting quietly in the corner and passed it by.  As I tiredly walked away, I could have sworn I heard a small sigh coming from its room.  So I walked back over to greet it, and sat down on its welcoming bench.  I uncovered its keys and heard them take in a thankful breath, feel them tingling with excitement.  Picking up my books, I picked out a single song among all the flowing black marks.  It was then placed into the pianos eager hands.  I positioned my fingers on the beckoning black and white keys, and began to play.

Silence was instantly filled with sweet, timid music, growing more and more confident with every touch.  Each note turned into a different voice, all working together to form a magnificent tune.  I was taken to a new place.  A daring adventure, a towering emerald forest, and then toes in warm sand.   It was whatever I wanted it to be, the piano encouraging it all.  It had put its mysterious keys into my once frightened hands. 

I learned that day that a piano is so much more than a black and white space.  It's like a firework, waiting for someone to allow its colors to show, and music is more than confused lines on a page.  A song had feelings, emotions.  A song is a story, and a piano its author.