Listen to the author reading the text

Birds weigh nothing at all, yet isn’t it interesting that the currents of air which carry them from tree to tree only hint at the vast medium which must invisibly support such undeserving, lightheaded swallows, so that our shallows float on clandestine depths. I would think that similar massive underpinnings must uplift the pianist’s short, relatively trivial time on stage, where each futile second is in fact the fecund wingtip, the toehold, the peeking eye, and the lurking peak of decades of gravity and despair.