My dad loved to play the violin.
Magic strings held secrets within.
A galloping bow played a rhapsody.
Rosin added a pulse to the melody.
Notes came to life; they had their own mortality.
As a solo ended, Dad slowly came back to reality.
Still mesmerized, I could see the tears that he had.
How could such beauty make my father so sad?
Longingly, he thought of the place of his birth.
His heart ached for his former home on earth.
Leaving home as a teen was a difficult choice…
The loveliness of his music had a tender voice.
On the riverbanks of the Danube were his thoughts.
He was a free citizen, but his mind was tied in knots.
One day, my father got a brotherly handwritten note.
'Haven’t seen you in fifty years, come visit…' he wrote.
It would be Dad’s first time traveling by air across the sea.
He arrived at his destination holding a sign saying this is me.
Letters stating his name, identifying a face that had changed.
His brother anxiously strained and embraces were exchanged…
For one month, my father was abroad rekindling family ties.
When he returned he was different, sadness had left his eyes.
A year later he died; silent violin strings no longer resonated.
My melodious memories of his wonderful talent still captivated.
Theresa Ann Moore
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-voice-from-within/
