I get ready. My knees pop
and in the silence, it is like the shot before a race. My heart takes off
for the finish line. I do not breathe.
This is why I love it. I forget.
I open my mouth and here comes the first note.
offensive, almost. It is such a surprise.
It moves, washing over upturned faces in the dark and silting down at the back of the room.
I shake with the birth of creation and awareness, I feel hunted and worshiped.
The first note is the true gift, the sounding bell of pleasure for the
ones who listen. A connection exists.
It is like the first touch
from your first love,
when you suddenly knew
that your heart was too small
the riot of your soul.