One sonnet from the hands that raise, alive
One syllable, one word, one turn of phrase
Like rolling waves, the moments, they arrive--
Like light and life crescendoed on for days.
So strike, composer, notes, and wave your hand
Through music in the air. And raise your eyes
You dancers on the stage-- now take a stand--
The lights, the orchestra, the thunder dies.
For this is all you ever fully loved--
This moment full of life that no one knows.
Oh yes, they see and hear and read enough
But you, alone, give birth in painless throes
To glory wrought in burning purpose. Give
Your everything to that for which you live.
postscript
Whatever it is, do it with everything you've got.