The Moment

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

The sound of every second grows.

Like a sign of impending death,

Time is running out.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

I rush into a warm-up room

The silence is deafening

Time is running out.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

I pull out my violin, rosin my bow, warm up my fingers

The adrenaline pumping through my veins is a hammer pounding wood

Time is running out.

Tick ... tock ... tick ...  

My time has come

It is my turn--

My turn to perform.