My eyes are closed
I sway in my seat
The sounds envelope me from all sides

I feel the upward rush
Hammers strike the strings
And my brain moves my hands

I write down the words quickly
Grasping tight that fleeting movement
Expressed in a poet's fingers

How a man I never knew
Can cause a a single tear
To drift down the cheeks of a crowd

Gathered to witness a moment
So rare but valiantly bright
That it gathers the population in its passing

A moment where everyone pauses
Refusing to breath or move their gaze
Beauty, then silence, then the roar of hands.