Piano trapped


Piano trapped

I love the piano,

Even though I don’t really know much of anything about it.

Peace would be sitting at an old friends’ piano bench,

Watching it all happen captivated by the flicker of the keys and the haunting beauty, abandoned by silence as it forgets to be relevant,

And knowing that I could never offer anything so beautiful;

Small hands.

If I could write music like the songs I improvise walking,

I would make the keys bleed forgiveness,

The keys would be delicate and gentle, my voice stapled onto a score.

It’s peace to be well in wondering at the twinkling knowing inside that great box,

Its peace to hear the harrowing notes, strung up little levers, marionette strings and pedals that moan,

Glue me to this spot,

It is well with my soul,

I could be trapped here happily and never leave.


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I am a second-grade teacher and pastor-to-be who loves people. I spend my weekends with friends or wandering the museums of DC alone and with a journal, trying to put words on the places of the soul that still feel wordless. I spent most of my days at school trying to learn patience through my students and running on sheer nerdy passion. I follow Jesus Christ, and savor that as my most important identity--that I am a child of God, as are infinite others, regardless of their other identities. Christ is my one thing.

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