Empty Inside

A man walks into a cold, dark room
He walks over to a storage area and picks up a box.
This leather object would be a stranger to anybody else
But not him.
Sitting down on this old shut down stage
The chair sent goosebumps to his skin with memories
He fumbled for his keys in his pockets
Now, keys in hand he stood gazing out into the open black auditorium, reminiscing
A light turned on directly over his seat
Taking the keys, he touched the cool metal, searching for a key hole
The jingle of the keys fell silent in the room, as he found what he was looking for.
The sound of the case unlocking clicked in the darkness
The man slowly unzipped and unpacked his treasure.
The smell of wood and rosin fills his face as he opens it
Taking the instrument in one hand, and the bow firmly in the other
He started to play, at first a timid sound came out of the instrument that he held
As his body movements kicked in, so did the sound.
The intensity and the passion poured out of his body
Being magnified by the red violin
The artist got up and walked around the room with ease
Playing his life's tune
Exuberant and full of joy the man filled the room with color.
The rosin flew off the strings before him, forming a cloud
The artist - unfazed at this played through it
He plugged in his heartache and misfortune
And his happiness and love to create a masterpiece.
The man stopped playing on a resounding key
Wisking the bow off the string, the violin rang clear.
The room was warm, padded with music and art
Sitting back down in his seat he smiled as he looked at the instrument
"Whenever I need you - you're here."
The light dimmed to nothing as the man put everything back just like it was found.
Quietly, the man walked out the door grinning with peace.

Poem by J.A.D. © 2002