For Natasha Paremski
(A Dream of Tchaikovsky's First Piano Concerto)

Last night I dreamt her magic fingers danced
Emphatic leaps across Tchaikovsky's page.
She summoned for the maestro's pen in hand--
A pas de deux upon a paper stage.
He dipped, then scribed in calligraphic flairs
Potential bound and freed by nature's laws.
Her fingers stepped, then sailed through breezing air--
A soaring leap to snatch a fleeing pause.
First quick and small, they shared a tabletop,
Then sunlight stunned and spun a summer sky.
Her fingers drew into a heated stop--
They posed en pointe as wonders twelve feet high.
Whence heaven poured its warmth upon her stage
And maestro's hand recessed into the shades.