Music's Breath

Without sound, I am adrift,
a puppet with severed strings,
my movements hollow, my purpose lost.
But when the music takes a breath
it fills the empty space,
giving weight to each movement,
meaning to each pause.

Each note creates the steps beneath my feet,
the beat of the tambourines grounding my turns,
the crescendos sweeping me higher,
until my body is no longer my own,
but an instrument to be used by the music

Without it, ballet is a painting unseen,
an unopened flower.
For it is sound that binds the movements together,
turning glittering fragments into a whole,
and silence into poetry.