Worlds of Black and White

How furiously most navigate
these polarized worlds of image and sound,
of color and lack of.

For many,
black never becomes white,
White never embraces black,
paradox is banished,
stunted minds only perceive one,
or the other. 

Yet…

For a precious few,
those who sit before
a black and white world of keys,
how paradoxical the piano’s
tendons,
bone and skin,
stretching forth,
inviting limber fingers,
co-mingling in the wonders of creative sound.

Such merging of color’s deep mix,
its wash of infinite searching
for hue and texture
gives birth to unique tone and vision,
enabling layers of voices to step forth,
becoming echoes to overlain echoes,
welcoming sound of distinguished structures.

Hands realize the enigmatic reach,
that unheard touch to gratify the stretch,
to speak that which might remain mute,
were it not for those in need.

Such is the struggle.

Behind such fingers and hands,
wire and dampers,
there resides a restive pulse,
that place where artistry gathers legitimacy,
where striving to be felt as a language
for those who know its distinction,
suffices the heart’s desire,
the mind’s nourishment.

Mystery…

The keyboard’s invention understands,
while the pianist and patron's mutual longing persists.