The piano stood her vigil for over forty years. Each day the man sat and played the same song, and every time the keys absorbed a little bit of the love radiating from his soul, vibrating both the strings of her soundboard and the strings within her very subatomic structure.
As the years passed, the love the piano absorbed never faded. It grew exponentially, with each song adding to its depth. Until the day finally came that the man at the keys could barely play anymore.
The piano knew that this was the last time he would sit at her keys and play the song, the song that opened an entire world of his own imagining.
As the last key fell, the strings of the piano vibrated, but didn’t stop; their vibration had reached a type of critical mass. The energy poured out from the deepest levels of reality, from places so pure and true that those who glimpse them spend a lifetime seeking out just one more nanosecond of such truth, and took the man at the keys along with them.
The trip was only one way. No song existed that could bring him back to the world before, but he had no reason to return. His decades of love and pure caring for his fellow man had brought him to this place of true connection, a world devoid of hatred, but where it was OK to feel bad because someone was always there to make things better.
To this day, whenever you do something selfless, whenever you forgive an unkindness, whenever you chose love and honest connection over anger and isolation, you can hear him, playing his song from the deepest places of your soul.
“Won’t you please? Won’t you please?
Please won’t you be, my neighbor?”
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