The violinist plays after a thirteen hour day of traveling

And it is his love that melts into the strings

That spin with the spirals in his passionate eyes

The instrument, knitting a simple melody

And his tired face awakens in the spotlight

As he pours out every last bit of grace from his soul

A soul that has brought him this far


and as the Taiwanese-American plays and speaks to the Russian conductor fluently

it occurs to me exactly what true love can do