The Sign of Love

Written under the pen-name Mina Hyatt

At the corner of the street

Every afternoon he’d play

The old violin sweetly singing

Like a firebird above the crowds

The people stopped to listen

Clapped. Whooped. Cheered.

And the hat by his feet soon filled

With the merry chinking of coins

His own personal accompaniment

 

But it was not for money or fame

He came every day without fail

Braved the wind and the snow

It was for the thing that pulled blindly

At t the strings of his heart:

Love

For the woman whose dark eyes

Pierced straight to his soul

 

But everyday she’d pass on her way

And he’d say to his audience

This song is for my true love

And look at her and smile

Yet she never seemed to hear

His message to her

Just the brief smile

Reached her lips instead

 

Late at night

Racked through with heartache

And his mind wild with ideas

He said to himself

I shall write her a symphony

With sweeping strings

And sighing horns

And the cataclysmic collision

Of the timpani

Pounding like my heart

 

And when the music was written

And the musicians had assembled

The audience waiting in anticipation

He saw her gliding past

The same smile

But didn’t stop

His stomach squeezed with a pang

   I have to tell her now!

Suddenly- without realizing

He was running towards her

And she turned

Half alarmed half bemused

And he cried out to her

Like the world would end: 

I cannot hold back

Stay! Please!

I wrote this Symphony

Of my love

For you

 

And for a second the world

Stopped

And he fell into those dark eyes

Out of control

And then she spoke,

The realization crashing down

What? She said

Everything changed in an instant

She didn’t have to say those words:

I’m deaf

 

But a quitter he was not

A man of courage and ingenuity

He would never close the door on her

There had to be some way

To show her how he felt

And then the idea clicked,

Show her

I have to show her

Not tell

 

A grey spring day

Seemed to her like any other

Shower. Breakfast. Paper

And then hit the door

However what she saw outside

Was completely unexpected

 

The path to her gate

Was no longer a dull a grey

But had been transformed

With oils, charcoals and pastels

Into a rainbow of colour

Swirling, Sweeping, Rising, Reaching

Reds for true love

Yellows like the sun’s radiance

Orange for the beauty of a smile

Purple for the complexity of human nature

And Green for the growth of things to come

 

Enchanted

She followed this river of colour

Out of the garden gate

On to the quiet street

And along the road

Where he was waiting

On the corner

At last

She understood