The Piano Magic
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Hidden in the backstreets within the fog of downtown New York,
sat the remains of an old abandoned theater.
Whispers and laughs of the yesteryear hung heavy in the air.
A lonely darkness with remnants of a forgotten energy
danced throughout the atmosphere.
Towards the front of the ole’ performance room,
was a once grand stage,
which now was adorned with black tattered curtains
and splitting and rotting wood.
Upon that once grand stage,
sitting alone in the cool darkness,
I witnessed the slim silhouette of a tired middle-aged woman…
who once, some years ago, was a youthful boisterous performer…
But now, here she sat, if frozen in time…
Still and lifeless- touched too much by a broken world.
Her long, aging fingers lingered across the out-of-tune piano keys,
searching for a dance, they once knew, which sang to a song of
timeless magic…
And there… she sat.
Lonely… out of touch…
Dreaming of a world that had once been…
Searching for…
Magic.…
Hopelessly, wishing for…
Magic.…
For the dark lights to once again, illuminate the ole’ grand stage…
and for people to file in with awaiting anticipation….
to hear the chatter…. laughter….
To feel the high energy of excitement….
That magic….
But now,
only silence hung heavy in this run down skeleton remains of a building…
A theater…with forgotten magic.
…And as if, in a dream, something else began to fill the air
Time…stood still…as a clock somewhere in the far distance began to chime…
The middle-aged woman slowly closed her eyes and lowered her head…
A lost tune of years gone by began to escape her chapped lips.
And from behind the black tattered stage curtains,
a bright moist golden red apple rolled towards the legs of the piano bench
of which the woman so listlessly sat…
Rolled out of nothingness…
As if from another realm.
Magic…
Lost in a trance, the woman bent down,
and retrieved the golden red apple.
After staring for some time, she took a hopeful bite…
And just like that of a fairy-tale,
the darkness lifted and transformed into a dream.
…Within a second…
and a snap of the fingers,
No longer the middle-aged woman that she was,
became a youthful lady dazzling in
a sparkling silver evening gown.
Joyful laughter bellowed from her
pink lips with her long soft red hair
cascading down her slim shoulders, free flowing.
Gracefully, she stood up and twirled,
her youthful fingers grazing the piano keys
in an upbeat Broadway tune.
Blinding lights warmed the now grand stage,
as it presented a soft glow around the lady,
Illuminating a once lonely stage.
And then there was....magic.
Classical music spiraled from the lively piano keys,
echoing off the walls.
For a time, hope filled the atmosphere…
A place where dreams come true-
No longer, a dark tired atmosphere.
Souls of those times gone by gathered in to witness the moment,
Applause rang out…
The magic of the music was alive…
MAGIC….
And just before the ending midnight hour chimed,
A dove flew overhead.
The illumination began to dim and the lights went low…
then darkness shadowed over the magical dreamland performance.
The tattered black curtains closed
and the classical song, faded…out-of-tune.
Lowering her head, the slim red-headed youthful lady,
began to gracefully age, once again…
becoming tired and listless…
She took a molded half-face white mask,
and slipped it upon her face,
closed her eyes as if in a trance…
Frozen in that moment in time – she stayed.
Lonely, in an abandoned theater,
in downtown New York,
waiting for….
Magic…to dance again.
Ariana R. Cherry 2017
Ariana R. Cherry: Poet & Artist 