Magically in Vienna

I dream of Mozart's Vienna-
An aficionado of music--
Hear the harmonic line,
Intertwined with melody-

Soft and flowing like cobalt water
A type of music never attempted before...
Yes, succumbing obediently
We become one--
Molded together feeling the movements
And understanding what the other wants--

Yes, succumbing obediently
Everything previously was simple and straightforward,
Only now, now I must strain to hear,
Close my eyes in order to see that color--
Those colors the symphony paints--
And yes, the composer announces himself...

Trumpets-- bold cadmium yellow,
Woodwinds soften the blow with warm pinks and purples,
Then, the low brass with thick chocolate brown,
All coming together, melting to create nocturnes,
Chorale, allegro, legato, prelude, adagio...

The music consumes me-- we are magically in Vienna...
What would it be to have a part in this creation?
To go beyond playing in this creation?
To go beyond playing by routine?
Dream-- to make a musical moment unlike anything ever experienced.

Dream heard.

Dream played.