And You Wont Hear a Word
The harmony, the melody,
the placidity and subtlety
of each pianissimo note,
the rage and intensity
of each forte beat.
Each bar, each measure,
each line, each piece,
and all the curves,
sharps and flats,
and every clef.
I`m irate: I bang the keys
and it sings my anguish.
I`m jovial: my fingers gush across the keys
singing my happiness.
I`m forlorn: I slowly drift up and down
it sings my desires and tears.
I need not words,
I need only my piano
and it will speak for me.
How good,
how angry,
how happy,
how sad.
How sordid,
how love struck,
how desperate.
I am.
It sings my most simple and complex feelings
and you won`t hear a word.
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