Darkness. A white cone of light graced her silhouette. The room was full of expectation. The dreams and desires of a hungry crowd were about to be fulfilled, surpassed even.
Then, the silence is broken. A sequence of chords sets the mood. Soft strings join the spectacle, texturing the progression.
Her body began to sway to the music, tuning in to the scene, becoming one with it. It was this deliverance, this vulnerability, on display for everyone present, that was so remarkable and unique to that moment. As she began to sing, the diffused attention of the crowd focused only on her illuminated face.
It was perfect, nothing could distract from her ever engulfing swansong. At that moment, she had more power than any king, emperor, or statesman. She had a lifeline to her audiences’ heart.
The words that left her soul would not only be embraced, but internalized and believed. She transcended herself, she pushed her humanity as far as it would go. Her consciousness flowed through space. But this angel did not abuse her power. Her message was warm and true. She gave those who listened a few minutes away from themselves, she gave them an instant that lasted forever.
Magic. There was no other word for it, for there was no rational explanation, nor should there ever be one. As the music faded, the tears would not stop coming. We were back, back in our skin, in our lives. One can’t help but wonder, what did she feel?
