The final breath before the note, before you choose to sing. The final breath before you belt or blare some melody. Will your voice tremble like your knees did that night? I hope they don't, I hope it soars, and rings out loud and clear.

I've heard your voice do that some time ago, and maybe it was a dare. I remember you called out to the stars, the midsummer air carrying your declarations further than the sea. I could only laugh at your antics until I was breathless, laugh-less, done. The skies twinkled in delight and once we were finished, we moved on, gone. No point in lingering on and on.

I hope you sing that note so well, so they'll hear you like I did. I hope that it hangs in the air and captures everyone; whole, soul, full.