At the far end of the aisle, I sat on the pews.
Looking with intent eyes in the direction they longed the
most,
I saw the person, a violin in hand, time stopped.
He looked this side, without notice of the glow in my eyes.
He sat there searching for something I couldn’t have found.
A smile I smiled, as if it was my first.
The music began, Beethoven started, with its joy.
A moment was taken for this beautiful realisation of my
presence.
Rondeau followed with its tone still echoing in my ears.
Mozart at its best, I thought, watching the bow moving
vigorously, as through my veins.
Tchaikovsky played the best part with the theme of
unrequited love.
Magic spread, while I sat wondering how I had fallen in love
with this magical instrument.
It ended, he bowed, the same way I had in front of his love.
I returned, with nothing but contentment,
Of the truth, that it was God who had sent for me to bring
Me back, my Love back.
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