There's a Certain Feeling of the Stage

The quiet murmurs between dancers backstage,
Listening patiently in restrained excitement for director's notes,
Behind the curtains, staff frantically calls countdowns till showtime,
Getting into position before the music screams in the audiences eardrums,
1, 2, 3, 4, go with the anticipation that a count will be forgotten,
The first move is made and an entirely different person fills my place,
Rhythmic fairy dust spins around the body that used to be mine,
Nothing runs through my mind but the music,
Spinning and twirling and leaping its way through the audience,
Capturing their attention like moths to a lamp,
Nearly blinding stage lights near my feet,
The audience seems so dark and so far away,
But I can hear a whistle and a cheer and see a face staring up,
As my feet explore the black Marley flooring,
Skid marks from my shoes leave the motions of the beat earlier,
And the empty, dusty, dimly lit theater becomes a place of enchantment,
In it there is mystery and excitement, but also a certain kind of calm,
Finally being able to show off something that's been worked on for so long,
Like pushing a truck uphill for a year,
And rolling back downhill in a convertible,
Leaving the stage gasping relief, feeling on top of the world.