Television; scenes of violence, bombings, sounds of gunfire, people running to shelter from horrendous attacks.
We see it 24/7 on cable news, no escaping it as we sit safe in our homes and watch as a world away lives are lost, freedom trampled by those who value nothing but power.
At the Ukrainian/Polish border in the midst of this horror, you see the video of a man sitting at a piano, playing not in a lounge where people sit, sipping martinis, and politely clapping when he has finished. His stage is a border crossing, his audience a flow of refugees, asylum seekers, people fleeing unprovoked violence, the worst humanitarian crisis that we have ever seen.
He’s the piano man. The man who chases wars, conflict zones, painful protests, and plays for peace. His music gives hope and comfort, if just for a while, to those who suffer. In Afghanistan, Paris, Istanbul, Donetsk, Minneapolis, his stage knows no boundaries. He pulls his well worn baby grand piano equipped with wheels, a peace sign emblazoned on its side, using a motorized bicycle.
At this border he plays in the cold; coat, hat, fingerless gloves, a battered barrel with a fire for warmth, as dispossessed people huddle close and listen to something they remember. He gives a little hope to human life that now must deal with pain and strife. He invites them to play with him; they do, young and old alike. It gives a short reprieve, a breather as it were, to those who desperately need it.
He is the piano man who found that there was something that he could do.