Look, you’ve been fine.
I have been thoroughly entertained, if
that was your concern.
Damn near heroic, in places.
I even liked the bits
where you lost your way, clambered about the stage –
not that I was rooting for you to fail,
but I got to know you, and love you, in those moments
when the script and you were struggling for resolution.
I hope you find exactly what you need, in terms
of creative tension with the director.
I don’t know if you’re taking fan mail,
but it’s with pure admiration that I venture this mild suggestion:
there’s nothing wrong
with occasionally being
the supportive cast.
I mean this as no insult to you at all.
We all seem to have gotten the wrong ideas about stars.
Mostly, they help along the orbits of distant galaxies
by a couple of inches, hoist up the pretty ballerinas
and lumber along in their reliable way.
The ones that keep the universe going only explode
once in a great while. That’s what makes the while so great.
If you would only turn
from the dim prospect of the audience, you would no doubt notice
that the beech trees have been practicing their alleluias,
and the hummingbird, surely, is awe’s only understudy.
Summer is as good a time as any
to try one’s hand at an ensemble production.
Every blade of grass is ready
with a dramatic monologue. Just ask.
And when you reach out finally
to grasp those who bow right along with you,
you will be so proud
of the company which you keep.