Published under M.A.Cole in the Sibyll Literary Magazine, Elmira College, 2011.
As the swell of my feelings began to rage, the murmur of the voice of my true love came sliding towards me. It was an echo of the voice I longed for, and as I stood surrounded by the sound, I forgot the others that inhabited that room with me. For this moment, this brief glimmer of time, they were unimportant.
I found myself shaken as the murmur became a louder, more distinct calling. Like a lost soul searching for eternal piece, I closed my eyes and searched for the internal light that the echoing voice promised. I bravely held my own against the sound, recognizing that the others in the room could not possibly empathize with what I was feeling. There were no words to describe the way my emotions flowed right through my soul and uplifted my spirit into a new, more beautiful place.
The voice suddenly grew louder, and louder still as my heart began to pound. The dull beat that my heart felt prior to this meeting was a long forgotten memory as my heart began to race. I could not find what it was racing from: was it to keep up with the volume of the voice? My feelings of passion and love and heart ache? Or, was it the continuity of a lifetime, this same burning ache that seemed to radiate from my bones and through my flesh into something so much more important than me?
Then, something amazing happened: a chord was struck within me. I felt it hit my ears and my heart at the same precise moment. It was the voice, “I have to go. But I’ll always be with you…” Silently, suddenly aware of the others, I begged, Please, don’t stop! I need you. I’ve always needed you. Who will keep me safe? No one else understands… But the voice doesn’t listen. It continues on, and the audiences of people surrounding me seem to notice the shift in moods. The people around me are sitting up straighter, leaning forward on the balls of their feet, waiting and watching to see what will happen next. They don’t understand, but they can sense the change.
Finally, in a last cadential whisper, the voice draws its song to a close. Like children, the people around me are thrilled by the intensity, even if they don’t understand. They clap and jeer, and seem all too excited to stop hearing the voice. My eyes water as I bid it farewell.
The pianist bows and leaves the stage. The grand’s voice is silent for now.