Dark piano come to me you should not be as dark as me.
The preceding line was Sage’s first poetry, picked out letter by painful letter on the keyboard. (He knew how to spell the words, but since he hasn’t learned keyboarding skills yet, he didn’t know where the letters were located. I was chagrined to find that he made the long and arduous process palatable by pretending his fingers were missiles shooting down each letter.)
Anyway, “Dark Piano” was the product of the Muse descending on Sage earlier this afternoon. Forbidden to watch TV, he trooped down to the basement to play. After drawing on his white board and shoving trucks into the dog’s kennel lost their novelty, he began to play harmonica, then migrated to the piano.
He knew that I’d learned to record sounds on my phone, so he summoned me down to record his inspirations. His first work was “Beautiful Garden” (lyrics: “Beautiful Garden, you’re so beautiful. I could stare at you for hours.”)
Unfortunately, he made me delete “Beautiful Garden” and its piano accompaniment, but he DID proceed to record “Trees Make Apples” (lyrics: “Trees help you breathe. They also help me breathe. They also make apples. They make cherries. They make plums too”) as well as his chef d’oeuvre, “Dark Piano.”
OK, so maybe my kid is neither Shakespeare nor Mozart, but I WAS thrilled to see evidence that he could entertain himself creatively in the absence of screens. There’s hope for the next generation after all…