Among the many hues of morning,
I see only black and white in front of me.
This…unsymmetrical tapping…can be too monotonous…this…early.
And not before long,
the tapping…turn into notes…
followed by a subtle tone—
one I’m unfamiliar with but somehow know.
I can’t tell you what I’m writing. It feels like I’m on stage, performing.
And that’s when I hear it—that gentle voice I’ve been waiting for.
It sounds just as angelic, if not more.
No longer deafened by fear, I know it’ll disappear.
So, I continue to play what I hear.
Days I thought were gone still have their melody.
Childhood dream within reach.
Imagination finally freed.
I can feel the words I want to say.
I don’t know why I pushed them away.
Was it wrong of me to hold them back—
lacking the courage of their talent perhaps?
Time to toss caution to the wind.
I won’t know when it’ll be back again.
And for the moment, I let go
of all the archived secrets within my soul.
Four…five… and six…
The tapping turns back into silence.