The Storyteller

Soft steps echo in the hushed hall.

Dark figures sit and stare while

Warm rays of light fall on him.

Standing in center stage in front of a piano

He bows, and then prepares for what is to come.

Sweet notes are played as he takes a breath.

The voice comes out of him like a waterfall.

Each note blooms into a beautiful flower.

His eyes translates the text to the audience,

Until the last chord is played.

He bows once more and makes his way off stage.

A roar of applause stops him in his tracks.

He bows the last time yet they stand,

To the smiling storyteller that is grateful for them.