Paganini

Softest, softer, soft;
arms pulling back,
shoulders, tense,
heads rolling on cue.
A hum of strings
gentle, gentler,
holding the upsurge
until he has appeared.

Baton dancing
slowly, slowly--
an arc approaching the climax.

Now, crescendo:
focus the spotlight
on those thin bones.
Crane your necks
for the weight that platform bears.

So it begins
the performance of the century,
a night to be imparted
in the decades to come.

Fingers, swift,
furious, quick-tempered,
accurate, impassioned,
as the bow slides madly against taut strings.

Faster, faster!
As if life depended on it.
The world needs to be roused
from the monotony it feeds on.