Grasping the fragile
willow bow, I rub
the horse tail hairs
with waxy rosin.
Tentatively, I rest
the viola under my chin
let my eyes fall closed;
count the beat.
I put the bow in motion;
soft notes like angel
whispers echo through
the room.
The strings vibrate
under my fingers as
they move, changing tone;
creating a melody.
The music seems to
well up inside me
coming up from my stomach
to fill my chest.
I sway from side to side
feeling the beat
of a tune barely remembered.
Notes soar then diminish
to quiet as the song
ends and the final
echoes resonate into
silence.