I wrote this poem after I had sung opera at an open air auditorium in Melbourne. I did not think I would ever have such a thrilling experience again so I wrote this poem to thank my conductor for the wonderful opportunity he gave me and many of my friends.
After a performance there is a high and that high is high but after the high there is a low. I always wonder how I am going to ever enjoy anything ever again. But there was another show and another performance because I am in a choir. I love the show but I live for the rehearsal. Rehearsal is choir living.
After the show when the curtain comes down
and it’s time for the audience to leave
the adrenalin slows, the performers relax
and then begin to perceive how long it will take
until the next show when we will once again only exist
in a place outside time and space filled with song and our ability to breathe.
Our conductor conducts us in
all the songs we sing
and we pay close attention to
all his wild gesturing
for he is the one who is going
to get us through
all our singing, all our breathing,
he’ll show us what to do.
We trust him for his guidance,
he knows we need him too
in our music and in our lives.
It’s us now, not just him, me and you.
Voices blending together takes a lot of trust,
trust in our conductor and the singers next to us.
Singing has the power to bring tears to our eyes
or makes us grin quite foolishly but that’s not a surprise
for singing releases our emotions,
we sing with both mind and heart
and what a joy it is for us to be able to impart
that singing is not selfish but is meant to be shared
like fireworks, bonfires at night or Grandma’s comfy bed.
The rehearsals now are over
and our show is done.
The performers are all eagerly
waiting for the next one.
Waiting for the next one when we
will be Jonathon’s people again
and with music in our hands
raise our voices with a friend.
Not the end, just the beginning