Heart Music – A Poem

I was coming into

the lobby of my

building when one of

my neighbours stopped me.

“How are you?”

She asked with genuine

warmth. The smile on

her face was like

the sun on a

dark and dreary day.

“I’m doing fabulously.”

I said. She laughed

and the sound was

like wind chimes singing.

“I have to ask you. I was passing by your apartment the other night and heard the most beautiful music. What were you listening to?”

I ran through the

music I kept on

my phone, thinking she

might have heard some

of that. She shook

her head with each

song that I played.

“No, it wasn’t that. It was more melodious more ethereal. Much more happy.”

She reached down to

touch one of my

legs. I heard music

playing in the air.

It was loud and

very harsh, like glass

being broken on pavement.

The string section was

all screeches and scratches

that sounded like knives.

“No, that’s not it either.”

She touched my head

and the music that

filled the air sounded

as if it belonged to

a dramatic movie, full

of cellos and sweeping

movements. She looked at

me with her head

tilted to the side.

“You’re some sort of creative person aren’t you?”

“I’m a writer. How did you know?”

“Because only a creative person lives with that kind of music inside them.”

She went to touch my

chest I reached

out and held her

hands gently in mine.

“What are you doing? How are you making that music?”

“Why, you’re the one making the music. Every part of the body has its own symphony, if you’re quiet enough to listen for it.”

She slipped her hands

out of my grasp

and placed them on

my chest near my

heart. The air was

filled with the most

beautiful music. Full of

harps and strings and

melodious wind instruments It

was at once beautiful

and mysterious as it

was like nothing I’d

ever heard before.

“There you are. That’s what I was hearing. What were you doing last night?”

“I spent last night with my partner.”

I told her and she

smiled at me kindly.

“We weren’t doing anything in particular. It was just enough that I was with him.”

“That’s heart music.”

She said. I looked

at her quizzically.

“What do you mean?”

“When the heart is most happy, that is when its song is the purest.”

She went to go into

the elevator, but looked

back at me, smiling.

“You keep letting your heart sing, you hear me?”

I nodded and my

thoughts turned to him.

Already, I could hear

my heart starting to

sing.