Stage

A little girl looked at the stage
A big, lighted up place
A lot of people on it
Talking very loudly-
she could hear them all the way over here.
They looked small
No bigger than a little bit of her little finger.
But they seemed very big
And she wondered why.
She wanted to be up there too.

She stood on the big, wide stage
That stretched away on either side
And though she strained her eyes,
She couldn't see the end.
She couldn't turn her face.
She looked at the heads down, near the floor-
A lot of little black heads, with little pale faces,
Whiter in the white lights,
All looking at her.
The black, round microphone.
She went near it
Put her hands behind her back
And started to make all the sounds
She'd practised so long.
When she finished, she looked at them again.
They were smiling now, all the little faces.
She couldn't make out their mouths or eyes
But she knew they were smiling at her.
And she felt a proud glow.
She turned away then,
Walking on and on till she came to the end
That she couldn't see.
And when she came down,
She promised herself she would go back again.
She was big there,
Even when she was little.
It was wonderful there-
A little scary and endless,
But wonderful.
She would go back.