A broken hearted melody re-written by the king.

Then the song departed from his lips.

The song that which was pure in tone and sweet in melody, swept me up.

Swept me up like the stirred dust falling in the speckled sunlight.

I fell to my knees and wept and the sound.

All else faded away and was made dull in the light of his voice.

I was utterly captivated and i heard and felt his voice only.

This captivation gave me new life.

And i joined in the song.

I was transposed in the light of his glory.

A broken hearted melody re-written by the king.

We sang together, my God and I.

Then when i thought the sound could not be anymore holy or beautiful at that.

Heaven opened and he whispered...

"Little girl its gonna be fine,

lay your cares on me,

lay in my arms tonight.

Little girl i love you more than you know,

stay with me just a while.

Cause i will sing over you beautiful sing over your life."

He came to me

He came to me with his dreams and thoughts.

Dreams of what had passed of what may come to pass.

Thoughts life, light and love.

But mostly he came with hope.

Hope of the dream and thought of us.

And when he spoke of us they were not just words.

They were strong and everlasting

they were not breakable.

His words were more than words.

They were an art of their own.

Each syllable,

Each pause

Each letter painted a beauty unknown to my mind.

And though his words were in league of their own.

He came to me with more.

He came with purified affection

His touch was more than just a touch.

It was protective yet adoring, gentle yet eager

It was more loving than even his words could express.

And when he embraced me he did not expect  a  thing in return.

He simply did for the love of me and nothing else.

And if his touch itself was not enough he came to me with more.

He came to me with silence.

It was from him i learned to listen through silence.

For in that silence i found the deepest love.

I did not need his words or his touch.

For i found love deep in his eyes.

He came to me with the way to his heart and way to mine.

Just a girl and her piano

She sat.

She let her pale hand run over the ivory keys.

She placed her numb foot on the stone cold pedal.

She shut her tired blue eyes and let her hands take her away.

The melody she wrote was soft and pure. Straight from her heart.

She had not the strength to talk so she let gentle sound of the notes do it for her.

And once again she forgot. She forgot her hurt and pain.

And all of time stopped. Stopped to listen.

She was not a perfect player. She made small mistakes now and then.

But if you had heard her you would not know. Neither would you care. You simply would forget with her.

Occasionally she would hum a fragile tune. But mostly her hands created.

Her hands would hurt from the cold but that neither would hinder her.

She would play until dream became day.

And even in thought and dream the gentle notes they whispered.

She loved the music and the music loved her.

When she played she was not hurt nor tired she was just a girl and her piano.

Just a girl and her piano.