Poem Addressed to a Young Master at the Piano by Susan Smith

Your supple fingers,
as leaf in subtle wind,
ripple light and shadow
sink roots in my sorrows,
wrap me
in the spirit that never dies.

I watch you disappear,
slight figure severe in concert black
sucked into that black immensity,
a majestic Steinway,
leaving behind tossing hair
and a tender upturned face —

and I am present
at the birth of galaxies.

How is this even possible
from a binary instrument
solid with hammers and wires?

You join my long line of icons:
Menuhin and Stern, Shankar,
Segovia, Bjørling,
Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan … 

and Yunchan Lim,
at twenty.

I crave to picture you
at seventy
deepened to the artist
only you could imagine,

continuum in which I
will no longer be here,
teary-eyed and buzzing.

Artist’s Statement

South Korean virtuoso Yunchan Lim launched his international career upon winning first prize, at 18, in the 2022 Van Cliburn International Piano Competition. I wrote this poem in response to the emotional subtlety and utter immersion of his playing. His ambition is to deepen his understanding of a broad repertoire; and, as his teacher, Minsoo Sohn, explains it, “to bring the warmth and comfort of the music” to as many people as possible.

Enchanted by the endless challenge of poetry, Susan Smith has published a scattering of poems in journals and anthologies. Armed with a B.A. in English, she worked as freelance editor, court reporter, coffee-shop operator, and partner with her late husband in a geomatics consulting business. She lives in the Niagara Region, Canada.