By Leah Schindeldecker
I stride up to the curtain and secure my feet.
I peek out, see the crowd, and suddenly lose my breath.
I drop the velvety cloth and shake my hands, sweating.
I adjust the mic just in time for the curtain to begin opening,
stepping forward into the spotlight that makes me thrive.
Confident as ever, with the heart inside my chest going
thud, thud, thud.
It sure seems like it anyway . . . Thud, thud, thud.
Confidence shines through, but nerves rush through my pacing feet.
Adrenaline is something like the medium that makes me thrive.
Blurry faces making it hard to catch my breath
as I break the ice with my audience, it’s just the opening.
Smiling and showing teeth while I speak to them, sweating.
It’s surely not as easy as I make it seem,
I hope they don’t see me sweating.
I don’t talk fast or stumble anymore but . . . Thud, thud, thud.
My nerves ease gradually as the opening
closes and the calm travels to my feet.
I come to a standstill, looking out into the crowd . . .
Catching my breath.
It’s how important they make me feel that makes me thrive.
Importance, compassion and the reason behind all
are what make me thrive.
I can’t help it really, I’m still sweating,
and unable to understand why the spotlight makes me lose my breath.
Every time I realize what I’m here for ... Thud, thud, thud.
I finish my thought, hold my hands together, and look to my feet.
I heard the crowd clapping, hollering, all mouths opening.
The curtain closes, my eyes opening.
Add one more audience to the list that makes me thrive.
I unclasp my hands and move my feet.
I undo my mic, and still, I’m sweating.
Time to meet my audience … Thud, thud, thud.
Crying from the stories, yet another reason to lose my breath.
Hugs are exchanged and I feel warm breath
on my neck as they cling and then release their arms, opening.
I can feel my heart breaking as it beats . . . Thud, thud, thud.
Inspirational speaking is beautiful, it’s what makes me thrive,
but it comes not without moments that induce panic and sweating.
Each time I present there’s a certain person or few who need help back up on their feet.
This profession of mine, gives me my breath and makes me thrive.
From the opening arms of strangers, and the sweating palms of the hands I’ve held,
their hearts ‘thud, thud, thud’ just as loud as mine,
as they glance nervously at their feet.
"I am a senior at Rhinelander High School. I have lived in Rhinelander my whole life, and I absolutely love it here! I used to write poems when I was younger, but fell out of it for awhile. I decided to take a creative writing class this semester, and realized how much I really missed the beauty of poetry."
* * * * * * * * * *
"Yearling Deer"
By Jane Banning
Back legs stork-thin
knock-kneed
front feet
tiny hooves of a Victorian lady
neck long as a brown question
she eats mushrooms,
twitches her tail,
browses.
With the planting
of each
hoof-gloved foot,
I,
blunt and fleshy-handed,
am unsure
which one of us
is the more
evolved.
