Play me something beautiful

Play me something beautiful.
I will hear it. I promise.

When the delicate jewels begin to trickle from your fingertips, the oceans won't roar. They will whisper. The original ancestors whose rings show thousands of years will bend like saplings at the middle so that string of godly pearls might reach me unbroken.

The mouths of valleys shall widen so the notes will echo and when your music skips off the waves and onto my shores I'll hold those notes in my cupped palm and know they were played only for me.

I'll wear one at either ear, and the rest will kiss my collarbones, close enough to my pulse that I can keep time for you.