Once upon a time, I asked for help-
Something I felt I could not do on my own-
To move this thing made of iron and wood and strings and glaze-
I asked for help-
I waited and waited, soon realizing I would be alone-
I looked up the many stairs, the turns and thought, how?
I began and moved it slowly, inch by inch toward the stairs-
I lifted one, then two-
I rested and then again, three then four.
My lungs pulled at the air, my muscles cried and tried and yet I continued-
I had no choice, I could not stop, for if I did, she would drop.
Then again, five then six, on and again, one flight up-
Then two flights-
Then three flights-
And when at the top-
And moved her slowly into place-
I sat on the ground and gazed, at this thing made of iron and strings-
My reflection in her glaze-
With my lungs restored, my heart calm and waiting-
I rose, approached her gently, sat before her black and white-
Caressed her smooth skin and she spoke to me, sang to me, loved me-
I loved her and while I found myself carrying her that day-
I find that now, to this day, she carries me with her always-
I recently came across this piece by Yiruma. Each note within each measure of the song speaks gently to me and lifts my soul to feel the new day, and to remind me of the river within me and my heart … the center of my life.
I hope you find joy in your life and accomplish all you desire.