“Last Melody”

Rui Zhang

“MockingBird”

Roshan Mehta

Harry James raised his trumpet above the water’s surface and began to play a tune.  Broad sweeps of sound fluttered out of his bell, swinging from high to low as a seagull does across an open ocean.  The powerful, yet fragile tone gradually softened as the quiet ripples of the strings crescendoed into waves, and as the waves of brass crescendoed into a tsunami.  Again, the trumpet arose, only this time, it was different.

His sound seemed louder, yet softer, in terms of its emotion.  The quiet, continuous ripples in the background emitted a spray of salt, while the bright brass conveyed a current of light.  He brought the two together to fashion a sea of bittersweetness — no — of reconnection after years of separation.  He manifested an emotion.

Music always relates to our feelings.  Yet, when Harry James raises his trumpet, the whole world watches as he spins a sea of song, listening for the depth of its soul.

• Category: Painting, Prose