Dwarfed by space and silence they stand
A flock of colourful sparrows, fluttering doubts
Flitting over each expression.
Can we pull this off? their stances ask
The space surrounding them
Electric with nerves.
Skitter-shy as colts, they wait
Champing at the bit as the music begins
Then the drop of the beat and they transform:
No longer sparrows but nightingalesSoaring on wings of song.