Posted in Of Writingly

The Dark Sea

Anticipation is Anxiety
But, The Stage is Home.

The Lights go on
The Curtains draw
Black Sea of Calm ahead
Finally, I go on
Free of waiting
To jump into
The Unknown.

Art or Farce
Whatever happens, is no more.

They get their money
On the clock for 2 or 3.
A beat lost can’t be regained.
Flash of truth can’t stay the same.

“All the world’s a stage”
But, too much time is spent in Rehearsal,
Thinking of Post-Mortem,
With little relish for The Show.

But, I am here
By the Dark Sea
Looking back at me
Throwing its hard-earned money
Sweeping in waves
Its laughter and delight.

And all I can do,
Is entertain her
With no time for thought
Before or After.

If the moment’s gone
The Dark Sea will
Banish me from its shores
Or swallow me whole.

Author:

Writer, Blogger, Kate Bush Fanatic

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