the violinist...

She stood up like a swan...
Her hair was caught at the nape...
She stood under the arclight white..
Her black flowing gown looked like a curtain flying...
Then she took the bow and rested it delicately on the strings...
Just like a feather touching a harp...
She closed her eyes...feeling each of the strings...her companions for ages...
Her friends of sadness and beauty...
She knew how to touch them alive!
Her bow...her strings...
Her wooden violin polished...
Then she started playing with them-
Playing as if she was born to play!
Playing as if she knew exactly how to bring senses to strings so taut!
She played...
And I could see her
Almost stirred up inside...
Her eyes closed carried all of her mind and heart...
Her sweet eyebrows twisting up and down with every move of her hand and the bow...
Her whole body became a song...
I saw her...
I saw her through...