Photographs · Poetry/Poems

Finding My Fingers…

jacquelineobyikocha

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I just fell in love again.

My fingers danced over the keyboard

flitting and picking the notes

my notes unsure at first till they started coming back in spades

I played till  my fingers cramped

losing myself in the notes belted from the keyboard.

They sounded broken, like some pieces of me,

yet soothing they came out, like the throaty seduction of the nights siren,

like the insistent squalling of a quibbling toddler.

I revisited old tunes long stored in the belly of forgetfulness

the came tumbling out, a piece at a time,

the jumbled sound of music from my own fingers sounded so beautiful.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

 

An early Christmas gift of a keyboard from my darling Himself has become a piece of peace and joy.

I haven’t played in almost 20 years and I can’t even remember the reason why. I think when I left my parents home, I was secretly waiting till I could buy a Grand Piano, that must be it which seems such a poor and insufficient reason now.

For now, I shall covet my keyboard and enjoy it thoroughly while I wait for The Grand Piano that will surely come in time. Today, we play.

Published by jacquelineobyikocha

A wordsmith with a vivid imagination, an eager mind and a burning desire to carve out tales. As I journey with my muse to that land of all possibilities and self discovery, I hope my personal evolution will serve as a beacon of inspiration for anyone who chooses to stop by.

16 thoughts on “Finding My Fingers…”

  1. So happy for you, J. Piano was my refuge in a troubled childhood, I could block out the ambient, angry noise. There are songs that will come back to your fingers, you will be surprised. 💘

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  7. Love this post. All my life I wanted to play the piano. My sister got the lessons as a child but we later learned that she hated the thought and skipped the lessons. Her teacher didn’t snitch because she still got paid. Two years ago my wife gifted me with a keyboard, unfortunately the arthritis had set in and the fingers began to rebel. Still there is hope. Do you have a “Fugue For Swollen Joints?”

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  9. Beautiful story reflected in a lovely poem.

    “Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.”
    ― Maya Angelou

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  13. Pretty poem Jacqueline. Do you actually play piano? I did for about ten-years but never had much skill for it. I admire people who can just sit down and pick out the notes/chords and play like you describe. It’s a source to deal with stress and make yourself feel better. Great piece and well written!

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I love it when you decorate my heart with your words..