Maestro

You’re settling into your seat and a hush falls on the theatre

We are waiting for that moment
Before the opening bars
When light succumbs to darkness
Sounds stutter into silence
And the music begins

For now, we watch the players take their seats
And then the leader stand, and to her sign
The oboist responds and calls the tune
A note so beautifully pure and true
That, taking cue, the strings reply
And then the wood and brass and drums
Until a wild cacophony ensues
Like mating calls high up above the forest floor
Mesmeric in their unbridled brilliance

And now, like lovers newly reconciled
Their calm and harmony restored
They rise as one – as living art
While to the sound of garrulous applause
The maestro enters left and takes command

And bids them sit, and pause
And with a reassuring smile
Holds out his sculpted hands
His baton capturing the eye
Hovers lightly in the still, expectant, air
This suave and skillful master of his art -
Of weaving wonder, painting pictures
And delicately redesigning time
It is that moment before the opening bars