The silent stage

One flutist.

And empty auditorium.

A silent stage.

I can feel the silence reverberating around the space -

I can feel the lack of an orchestra at my back,

The invisible audience before me,

And I am excited, suddenly.

Gripped with this opportunity

To perform

To no one.

I lift my instrument to my mouth.

One note

At a time.

A scale.

Something so simple

I could do in my sleep

And yet here,

It sounds gorgeous             impossible             perfect.

A new awakening.

No one is here.

It is supposed to be

"Group warm-up"

Pre-audition

But no one shares my time slot

Or they have all left

Because I am completely alone up here.

And it is bliss.

I feel

Free

Like a bird surfing in the skies

Within endless blue.

Each note

Soars

Echoes

Cuts through

As crisp and clear as an autumn morning

And yet so warm,

So deep,

So full of emotion.

This is what I love.

Upon the stage,

The silent stage,

I play.

Each note is a blessing, 

As I play to no one -

To everyone -

To the world.

It is so quiet,

So pristine,

So pure,

And I bask in my own sound,

So incredibly grateful to the universe

For letting me possess such a talent

For letting me be able to produce a sound

Like that.

On the silent stage,

I fly.

I fly free and unburdened and hopeful.