WoofIAmADog

Suspended my fingers hang as if controlled by a puppeteer’s taught strings. The master hidden in a mask of shadows in the recess of my imagination. Floating above planes of pearl with even hills of onyx. Divided and organized like nothing found in nature. Finally my hands dip to begin their dance over the smooth ceramic. To waltz or seemingly fly. A lilting melody weaves through the air causing deep violet to pale rose images to dance through my head. Images of beauty and everything wonderful and fresh. From the side, the wooden casing hides my hands mysteriously leaving one to wonder for the puzzle of sound magically fitting