His Memories...

This little bit of jazz piano…I’m liking it. It is serenity mixed in with the beat of a drum. Nearly effortless beauty is what I would call it. I listen to it as I sit in this school’s band room…and when the piano and drums stop, I hear the beauty of a solo violin; then, I am reminded of operas and plays that I have given my attendance to. It seems to awaken old memories that I’m not even sure if I can call mine…they just seem so old and foreign, but they are so beautiful and lovely. I am not sure of whom these memories originally belonged to, but I can claim them as mind for the moment.

          This feeling is just so beautiful…it is just as if I am frozen in time for one moment. It is nothing that I can describe. And now, as it ends, I find myself leaving with some kind of untold treasure…as if I am talking to an unsung hero of some forgotten war. I would want to live in this moment for hundreds of years…I would love to lay myself down in this serenity and to just stay there.

          Now, I have been drawn away from that peace. This disruption is nearly an insult to me. I love that music…it allows me to block out the horrors of this world, and just let myself fall away. That is my dream…that, is my paradise.

 

Daniel Helle, Twenty-seventh of May, Two Thousand and Eleven.

Reviews

[Rene Velez]

I for one am a music buff, it makes my life tolerable without it I do not think I could cope, I have noticed a deep connection with poets and music, nice job

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

A perfectly transition of two very distinctive arts, well done

[Coyote Poetry]

Music create the peace we need in a life. I like this chapter. Sort of a search for some kind of understanding. Thank you for sharing your powerful and wise words. A excellent chapter.
Coyote