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 nightingales
Soaring on wings of song.
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