I wonder when it happened…
When holding a mic felt like home,
When talking to ten thousand,
Felt like talking to my mother on the phone.
There’s an odd sense of familiarity,
That comes with the words I say,
That play out so effortlessly,
Like I’ve known them since the dawn of age.
If only I could finger-point,
What exactly changed my mind,
What undid the inhibitions,
That kept me on the sidelines.
I bask in the unfettered Liberty
That comes with anonymity and fame,
Then I step out of the spotlight;
I become the picture outside the frame.
They ask me how I do it
And I wish I knew how,
And saying that it just happens,
I smile and take a bow.
I guess it wasn’t something spectacular,
There’s not much there to narrate,
It all fell in place when what I had to say,
Became more important than being afraid.