Life In The Spot Light

Hard gruealing practices, and now it's time to show all that you've got. You dress, and prepare your hair . . . Butterflies bump and flutter freely in your stomach. After the last warm up stretch, they yell "ladies take your place." The theater is dark, behind the curtains you run. Hugging, kissing, and numerous chants of good luck. Seconds till it all begins . . . You stare hard at the velvety, red curtains. And by some great power, they move. You stand still, heart cought in throat. Down below the conductor cues the pit, and within seconds the theater is filled with harmonic sounds. The spot light flickers, and it clumsily makes its way towards you. The light is beaming bright, and the second you feel it, you dance. You dance with your head held high, and a smile that sings of passion. Step, step, leap . . . turn, smile, jump. and still the pit plays, all eyes on you. As your body twists and turns, and others back you up. Your hair whipping due to all the movement. It adds another beautiful effect. Memories flash all around your head. Your filled with love and desire. And here comes that part, that's had you flustered from the start. Thousands watch, and the all familiar music flows angelically from below. You brace yourself and give it your best shot. Toes pointed out, run, leap, twist, and spin. You spin and smile proudly till the heavy curtain drops. It's over, and you hear cheers all around. The conductor cuts the players, and their instruments go to rest. The other dancers run to congratulate you on your wonderful job. Again the curtain opens, and the spot light finds you. This time no pressure, for you did so well. The crowd stands and their applause thunders through the room. It echoes and you stand surprised, flowers are thrown at your bounded feet. And so gracefully you pick them up with one gentile sweep. Your night, in the spot light . . . Written December 21st, 2001 © on Dec 21 2001 06:52 AM PST   10 • 0