Ode to a piano

Two hands in practiced grace,
Glide skillfully across the piano's face.
The fingers move as if they dance,
Each in their own disciplined stance.
The keys appear separate in black and white,
But they float as one in musical flight.
Ebony and ivory may be set apart,
Combined they create harmonious art.
From sheet to brain the notes are fed,
Adeptly into chords they're wed.
Eighty eight keys with a common goal,
To realize the dream within your soul.