Her hands glided over the hard brown case,
The smell of wood hit her mind in a series of frantic memories
Silver strings with coloured ends,
sending jolts of pleasure to her ears
The used lines on her hands reminding her of lost passion
Her hands gently held the bow-strings making her smile with barely contained joy
White hair turned yellow strikes the raised silvers
Pushing her through a whirlwind
Anger, joy, sorrow, bliss conflict and then tranquility
Riding through high notes deep pitches and flailing crescendos
Her eyes fell shut,
She held the chamber to her heart not once ceasing her flourish
The shivers whispered about an impending darkness.
She felt in her bones every tremble
She reminded her hands to never stop
Never to come to a standstill
She knew she couldn't change what was coming
But for now she wouldn't let her spirit wander for now everything was here.just here
-keerthana
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Poetry"If you are a dreamer come in If you are a dreamer a wisher a liar A hoper a pray-er a magic-bean-buyer If you're a pretender com sit by my fire For we have some flax golden tales to spin Come in! Come in!" ― Shel Silverstein 🔹 This is a collecti...
