''Gone was the music''(The Old Fiddler)

For a dear friend

It was so silent in the little attic,
it was deafening.
The dust was dancing a slow waltz
in the sunlight,
piercing through
the heavy lace curtains...
But they were dancing to the silence.

The violin...It wasn't playing...

That violin.
In the leather case,it sure lay there.
But it was mute.
Where were those hands that would touch it,
and turn it to gold?
Where was the old fiddler
with his small,glistening eyes
and his old,brown,velvet jacket?

That old fiddler.
In the velvet jacket...
He was asleep...
Two stories down
and a heartbeat away,
from never playing again...

It seemed as if
the violin understood...
The dust twisted around
for a while,
only to drop down.
As if to mourn
their never dancing again...

That was a very silent day
in the little attic...
But secretly
the violin knew,
this day would dawn...
It just was not ready
to stop playing...
Then again,would it ever be?

(''Old fiddler!Get out of bed!
Take this best friend
into the Sun!
Make the dust dance again!
Let pain be gone!
Only you can comprehend,
it needs your hand...
Get out of bed,
give illness a rest,
shake it off your chest!
So many things depend on you,
a whole community of dreams!'')

A note flew through his window
and onto his lap...
  He looked up....

Reviews

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Perfectly intrict, I feel as if you are more relaying what is solid to your memory rather than embelishing the truth, well done, good read.

[Cherrie Palmer]

This gives new life to the Master's Hands, I loved it. From the dancing dust to the mute violin. This was a beautiful call for one more, and then maybe another.