When You Walk Into The Room
When you walk into the room,
all the poets
feel a sudden urge to praise,
all the dancers want to move,
singers ache
to raise their voices high
for all those times
they foolishly chose silence instead.
This impulse to express,
this surging forward into form,
is absolutely involuntary, tidal,
primal, pure.
The poet's fingers twitch,
the singer clears her throat,
the dancer moves inside her shoes,
already receiving roses
from the grateful choreographer of her heart.
Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at November 10, 2011 09:26 PM
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