The Diva

On the stage stood the Diva, serenely tall and still. Resplendent and refined, not one hair out of place, not one fold of of her white gown was disturbed. The silence in the darkened auditorium gave a clean palette for the Diva to work with. The first notes of the of the subdued orchestra set the tone. The sweet timbre of the clarinet and flute conducted the mood, begging in low tones for the Dive to respond.  All eyes were on her, not for her exacting beauty or poise, exposed for all to see; but for the perfect tones issuing from her her red full lips. The song come softly, almost quietly building at a slow harmonic pace. Each note wrapping around every member of the audience. Dulcet sounds of love traveled through the rapt listeners. It visited each person as a witness, bearing its pure and devoted voice to every heart in the gallery. The lofty notes drew quieted gasps from enthralled viewers. Many had tears falling from their eyes, but not one hand moved to still the silent moisture. Such longing and revelation held captive the very soul of each member of the congregation. The a capella pleas begged divine forgiveness, only to end finding silence and darkness.