One World of Black and White
by Odin Roark

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,
magic’s paradox banished
as arrested minds continue to perceive one
or the other.

Yet

For a precious few,
those who sit before
a black white world of keys,
tendons flexing,
bone and skin stretching forth
as limber fingers share a different universe.

Hands realize the musical decay’s reach,
that often unheard touch of fading timbre,
to quietly extend the reverberation
for those in need.

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 further layered reflections,
embracing sounds of the piano’s loving expression.

Behind trained fingers and hands,
there resides a restive pulse,
a place where artistry gathers legitimacy,
striving to be felt as a language familiar enough
to suffice the heart’s desire and nourishment.

Such is the flight of magic.

One world of black and white the keyboard artist knows well.

For others, a missed passion the pianist must express,
even if no one else listens.