The Last Letter

Dearest,

You sit there smiling, 

dreaming of the future.

You sit there laughing, 

off in a world unknown.

How your fingers dance,

as if ballerinas from a time gone by.

They dance across the kitchen table, 

pretending they are here near me. 

I see your smile, my love,  

I feel the warmth of your spirit.

You need nothing more to thrive, 

you have learned to be content.

You have learned from me. 

I sit here now, my heart nearly content.

I command my heart to be still, for I know something you do not.

Soon, my dearest, your fingers will dance where mine now rest.

You will take my place. 

For I am leaving world.

Today, you sit there, practicing on that kitchen table, 

playing keys that exist only in your mind,

practicing for tommorow.

Because tommorow, you will sit here, in my place.

Here at this piano, your fingers will soar where mine now rest. 

My heart rests in the knowledge that my lessons have taught you well.

You have learned self-sufficiency here, through musicality, from me. 

Goodbye, my dearest grandaughter.