empty

Stifled, my potential locked away, fighting to be expressed. I am left only to listen, watch and yearn, more than I thought possible. I long to be there, to hear the sounds, to feel the beat rock my core, to see the lights and absorb the rush and excitement that flows with their brightening, to experience the anticipation and then absolute gratitude of the audience.

I can feel my sticks in my hands as they float weightlessly from note to note, releasing upon contact sweet sounds that merge in harmony with others unleashed simultaneously. I can hear the shouts of those around me as the intensity of our excitement causes us to move in synchrony, unifying our individual love for the music into one stream of exhilaration, radiating to those who watch.

I can see the canvas that is the stage waiting for expression of a message through music, mood and motion. I feel the air moving against me as I release myself to the rhythms, emotionally executing the choreography in its entirety. I hear the resounding response of an audience fully comprehending as they watch the dance unfurl before them.

now... separation has forced a new fate. the sticks have stopped, the movement has faded, the crowd is silent, the lights are out, the air is still, and my stage is empty.