You sit at the piano, and turn
with the elegance of autumn,
rendering the ache of death beautiful
against the pale light of a shifting sky.
Your shoulders sway after the rhythm
of a pulsating pensiveness,
meeting the edge where yearning
yields to touch patience.
Your fingers create cascades of teardrops,
as the rain outside fills the cupped palms
of rose petals, shedding themselves to sing
songs of the changing earth’s vibrations.
And with each note’s rise and fall,
this music within our hearts
is ringing the bells’ hidden oceans.
In a momentary pause,
motes of dust turn to gold in the air,
and the dead weight of sadness
Natalie Lester is a poet currently residing in Ithaca, NY. She has other work forthcoming in Poetic Sun and Spirit Fire Review.