It's magnificent Debra, and what wonderful piano accompaniment!

A little distressing, but I understand. I'm the right age to understand :)  Anna Magnani, a famous Italian actress of the last century, was full of wisdom and once said to her makeup artist, while he was preparing her for a scene of a movie, a phrase that later became famous: «Leave me all my wrinkles, don't take away even one. It took me a lifetime to make them!» And nice piano, Debra, it suits well.

Beautiful and wise! Yes, those are the right words for this outstanding piece of lyric and piano art. I still have blonde hair - for now :) Unfortunately, the ravages of time affect us all... but wisdom increases unceasingly in equal measure. And the realization that we only live once ...

Very nice collaboration.  Very calming piano making us accept our age.

Peter your voice and your words are unique and combined with Debra's beautiful piano create another beautiful masterpiece of timeless proportion. Johnny

Poetry and Concept:  (Peter: 1234567890) @soundcloud.com/user-264930040/tracks
Arrangement & Production: @david-dunhamuser589535203
Piano Accompaniment: Debra Buesking
______________________________
The first time I heard these words from Peter I was getting ready for the day....looking in the mirror.  I could have written this.  I might have chosen different words but the sentiment was definitely the same. And so I decided that since my hair has gone decidedly gray maybe today would be a good day to update my profile photo.   I celebrate rather than lament the passing of time.

Thank you, Peter, for the honor of letting me embellish your words with my piano. And thank you, David, for your wonderful insight and creativity in production.  
___________________________


.... Inspired By Mr. Pärt's Spiegels (1234567890/Peter aka @user-264930040)

Dear God, just look at the state of you - what the hell happened?
Did time do that all by itself?
Chiselled and scraped with gentle, temporal strength?
Yesterdays now patterned well with telling tales of wear and tear.
Always took such good care that you ticked every health kick box
But all the ticks collect their tocks, bundling up the time we thought was dangling spare.

And wrinkly skin comes out to play, crafting plots with crumpled neurons badly frayed, and
Liver spots about the edges worn of happy recollections,
Waltzed away, invisible to the swinging of that penduled clock.
Take your eyes off it for just a minute and you’ve lost a day,
And then a decade’s worth of wry reflections,
Lovingly to fold them up and let them lie in memory’s pocket.

Those lines that contour of your brow, a biography of creases now
And all cut down so very deep.
Each epidermal void crevasse life’s stylus tracks a scratching past
Evinces of a record no mortal hard re-format could delete.
And of your eyes, sallow yellowed at the margins, framed by corvid feet
Rigid-set to well outlast whatever bargained span of life your good Lord deems replete.

As if your face lampoons of age itself, wrecked and bent
Of scars that trace minutiae, carved in master sculptors’ stone
And none too soon, for just that task and that alone, recording compressed of the past..
We both know well which ones are smiles and which the pain that heaven sent,
The former few, soft of the flesh, the many others sunk unto the very bone,
The harshest welt of any sole upon the universal cobbler’s last.

But does it help to so reflect, or but to hurry time’s neglect?
Of such consideration circles wrapped in worry tearing down
All edifice of self respect, the towering pit of pity comes once more to town,
Parades a circus fine of talents, self deprecating jestered clowns
And galloping horses all the while stampede about the rounded ropes
Vespered peace forever sought, just out of reach, concedes of futile, now confounded hopes.

So what of forward self projection, folding the creases back behind
And out of sight to speculation on future solaced peace of mind?
Perhaps again the crashing wall of fast reality, solid bricked
Determines upward focus but to fall, as if to gravity’s grounded truth
Tricked of consequential solitude, rimed of age, aching of the aged sick
No respite there nor rectitude as once you found in torrid youth.

But perhaps I’m speaking out of turn and out of place,
For though your memories sear and burn as if to carbonise some worthwhile trace of validity
On that unholy visage lit by lives lived long before….
It matters not and changes nought, not a jot nor yet a thought
For you and I know better than to seek a settled score from comment fair
After all, you are I, staring back at me from the mirror mounted there.

.... Inspired By Mr. Pärt's Spiegels . 1234567890 with help from Dunham & Buesking

Best described as eclectic, my style is a soothing mix mirroring my personality: mostly mellow with the occasional outburst. Although I have a background in classical piano I have always loved to create and improvise.  Since early childhood I have been trying to duplicate on the piano what I hear in my head.  Now I see how formal studies and improvisation fit together perfectly. I hope to always keep growing and learning, reflecting the beauty of Christ in all my endeavors. Thank you for your kind listening.

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