Up the stairs,
Maybe,
I'm trembling,
Maybe,
Not.
I stop,
At my spot on the risers.
The director turns to us and gives,
A thumbs up.

One,
Two,
Three,
Maybe four,
Beats of silence,
She conducts for the accompanist,
And then the piano begins to play,
Maybe,
I relax,
Maybe,
I don't.

The director turns back towards us,
Motions.
Maybe,
For tall vowels,
Or maybe,
Motions a tear.

Hands go apart,
Deep breath,
In,
We take,
As one.

And then the audience,
Disappears.
The choir becomes one body,
Focus,
On the conductor,
Lost in the music.

The deep baritone,
Mixed with the,
Medium tenor,
And alto,
Topped by the soprano,
Whose high notes,
Soar,
All in one voice,
Yet,
With harmony.

The cut off comes,
Too soon.
And the music ends,
And suddenly the audience snaps,
Back into focus,
With their roar of applause.

Then silence.
Then silence.
As they wait for the first notes of the next.

And there we are again.
One voice,
Lost in the music.