Head On.
The stage. The lights. The silence.
They waited as I stepped up and parted my lips.
My heart racing, my hands trembling.
The stage, though familiar felt unnatural
It was as if I had stepped into a foreign land
I had stood in this place one thousand times before.
In the familiar arms of my friends and conductor,
My heart raced - as I stood before the microphone.
The lights, bright, yet I could still see their faces.
The faces of people I loved, and people I have never met before.
They looked up at me in anticipation.
My heart raced – fear of embarrassment, fear of failure.
The silence, the dreaded silence.
So thick it was I felt as if I was trudging mud
I turned to the pianist and nodded
My heart raced as the silence broke.