Recurring dream...(Pt 2)

Although I only ever had my "drawn" keyboard to work with, I could still (for some 10 years afterwards) sit down at the piano and play any one of the eight pieces I had memorised without a hitch. It gave me enormous pride and satisfaction to be able to do so - and kept my spirit soaring.

Then one day, I couldn't do it anymore. It stopped. The music disappeared from my head. I grieved and could not share the grief - who would understand?? Who could possibly empathise with a loss of something invisible as that was?

The "piano dream" started before I moved to Rarotonga, after the piano was gone and I was boarding with friends to complete my fourth form year. I was lying atop a black and shiny grand piano, watching the hands of a young man (at that time) play the most beautiful and effortless piece of music I had ever heard. I know it well when I dream - anticipating each note. I look up to smile my thanks for the gift that has been given. I awake. I have never seen the face of the man/boy who plays that music. Though, when I dream, I know who it is - know him well. He is me, I am him. I have had the dream now, regularly, for a looong time.