The sign over the entry to the concert hall stated:

The world-renowned
pianist, Dan Timely,
is coming to town!
When: Saturday at 7 pm

The tickets were in high demand, and the show quickly sold out online.

On the night of the concert, after everyone had taken a seat and Dan Timely had been announced to thunderous applause, the star strode onto the stage, made a slight bow to the audience, and sat down at the piano. He began to play his signature piece.

Dan started playing and the audience
sat quietly, respectfully. The men
and women in attendance looked around
to see who else was there in fancy clothes.

And as he played, the people in their chairs
made sure their ties were straight and that their hairs
and hats were all in place, self-consciously.
They knew this was the hippest place to be.

The first song ended, and the people stood
and clapped—they knew that Dan was really good.
He looked at them and smiled. And then he turned
and played another piece that he had learned.

But in the middle of the piece
the people heard the music cease.
Dan brought the music to a close.
His nimbly flying fingers froze.
What could be wrong with such a song?
Some people gasped, while others asked
if this was really the conclusion.
There was dismay and some confusion
in the hall among them all.

Then Dan began.
His fingers ran
across the black and white,
but something wasn’t right.
No one had heard this song before,
and soon none could ignore
the fact that Dan was improvising.
The waves of sound were rising,
falling, flowing naturally.
The music was so free
and unlike anything
that one might sing
or call an art.

But, playing from the heart,
Dan Timely felt
his worries melt
and fingers flow.
Where would it go?
He didn’t know.
But now it was too late
to hesitate.

The people were confused,
for they were used
to hearing common scores
from classic repertoires.

But as he played,
those staid
and quiet people started to receive
the music and perceive
it with their body and their soul,
which merged into one whole.
And some began to stand,
while others clapped their hands
in rhythm with the beats,
but some stayed in their seats.
They were afraid of something new
and didn’t know just what to do.

But as more people felt
the music melt
all their anxiety
their thinking was set free
and they were filled with peaceful energy.

The hall was filled with pleasant sounds
as Dan played subtly changing rounds,
and everyone could see
increasing harmony
was spreading through the hall,
and one and all
felt joy well up within.
Their thoughts of guilt and sin
about their troubled past
were fading fast.

They felt forgiven and absolved,
and all their problems were resolved,
and what remained
contained
no pain,
and it was plain
that peace was filling
all their willing
hearts.

The parts
of this great improvisation
were woven like creation,
when all had lived as one,
when life had just begun.
Dan took them back
to eras when no lack
existed outside or within,
before the sin
of Eden barred the gate,
and people, filled with hate,
began to separate.

They all were now feeling
the music was healing
their body and mind.
Their thoughts were refined
and aches were dissolved.
The music evolved
and flowed like a stream.
It felt like a dream,
and yet it was true.
Before it was through,
they all felt revived
and truly alive,
and all of their care
had vanished in air.

And when the last note had resounded,
the people felt completely grounded.
The peace and joy within their hearts
remained and didn’t part
as they began to leave the hall,
and sharing peace and joy with all
became the goal
of every soul
that had been changed,
that had exchanged
anxiety and fear
for mind transformed and clear.

They went out to the busy street,
and everyone they chanced to meet
could feel her heart expand.

One concert—improvised, unplanned—
had changed their lives forever
and none could sever
them from this gift of bliss,
and they would live to offer this
to everyone they met
who was prepared to let
them take away his pain
and every type of strain.

~

That healing music, shared with others,
would prove this true: “All men are brothers.”