70spoems/performance

PERFORMANCE

Alone on stage,
small child
behind heavy black curtain,
afraid to go on.
Distant voices whisper,
scream out old lines,
it is time, it is time.

On stage
small child afraid
to perform
my own destiny,
stilled by the power
of the dance.

Alone
behind black velvet curtains
dividing this reality and that,
knowing the audience is real,
the lights electrical contraptions,
the dance a choreographer’s dream,
the lines some playwright’s madness.

Fear-stilled woman
clings to old roles,
visionary knows
voices more real
than paper-trapped word,
it is time, it is time.

I stand on stage
alone, small child
naked in the face of power,
hypnotized and disbelieving
of my own destiny.