I am the orchestra
At one time,
I sat in the audience watching with awe. The music moving me to joy or sorrow,
I could be inspired or broken in the seats. Unaware of how the show could move me so.
After a while,
I learned the song. Knew each note.
Could predict the pitches and squeaks, the bangs and the clashes.
No longer in awe at the show, but rather ready. Strung and aware.
And knowing each move a moment before;
I thought maybe I was the conductor.
I stood before the audience,
They not knowing what was to come;
And as I lifted my arms:
I conducted the music note for note.
And in that dance of power,
I noticed that the music might play whether I am there or whether I am not.
When then I knew the truth.
The face of each sorrow,
The laughter of each joy.
The music that moved me was from within.
And I saw,
That I am the orchestra.
Not watching nor guiding.
But rather resounding from within.
