Ricercar a 6 (LCCMF)

This building---this sweet building
I’ve written about so many times. 
It massages my tense shoulders,
and reminds me of home. 
I am no stranger here. 
I have learned of its corners,
every detail,
every light,
every feeling. 
I have learned how the music
deceives in these halls,
how not only people,
but antiquated wood dances. 
I look across the room,
and realize the art lies not only on stage,
but on scratched wooden floors---
the audience members are artists. 
They are masters of applauses,
masters of listening,
masters of weeping
when music so wishes them to. 
They have learned
from their mistakes of clapping
between movements,
learned to stifle their breaths,
learned to become one
with the stage,
the lights,
the music. 
I am an artist. 
We are a room full of artists.  

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