On the Silent Stage
Rachel Taylor
Rachel Taylor
Grade: 11
Bio: Rachel is very involved in the technical theater world. She has stage managed 5 productions at school and is now a student Production Manager. She also runs cross country and is on the yearbook staff.
What motivated you to write this piece?
I am fascinated by the idea of what’s being said when nothing at all is being said. The concept of silence offers so much room for interpretation and I really wanted to work off of that idea.
Do you write sporadically or regularly?
I write regularly. I am part of the Writer’s Circle Club at school and we have bi-weekly meetings where we share new writing submissions based on prompts given at the previous meeting.
What was the most difficult part of your writing process for this work?
Editing! I hate editing what I write, especially poetry. I feel like I’m destroying the world I originally set out to create by editing my words. After I edit, however, I am normally very pleased with the final piece.
Lights are flashing, the curtain is striking.
I’m consumed by masses excited and restless.
The show begins.
You dance your way across the stage
On feet so ghostly silent.
Eyes on you, all else distorted.
Your pale, lithe limb extends, undistorted
Against the snowy white backdrop, your shadow is striking.
Enthralled and enraptured, the audience falls silent.
My urge cements to reach out and touch you, hungry and restless.
For now you’re protected by your stage,
Nevertheless, our connection begins.
Again your dance begins.
I watch you endlessly, thoughts distorted.
The freedom you find in that stage,
Your purity, striking.
My fingers twitch, itching restlessly.
The music is silent.
The stage is empty, decimated by silence.
Clapping begins.
The next set of dancers stumble into sight—flustered—restless;
Their dance out of sync, their bodies distorted.
The female extends her leg too soon, striking
Chaos across the stage.
It’s empty now, waiting for you, your stage.
I’m sick of the weeks spent in silence.
This desire within me strikes
Me down just as our next dance begins.
Even the music grows distorted
As your grace restores my energy—so raw, so restless.
Nothing about you relents to the restless.
Your presence gives life to the stage.
Never disfigured, never distorted,
Yet forever you remain silent.
For once I cannot wait for the end to begin;
You will be mine, tonight I strike.
Restlessly, I creep up behind you, shadowed in silence.
Entering my stage, our dance begins.
Your limbs distort as our connection strikes.
Rachel Taylor reading her sestina titled, "On the Silent Stage."
Photo Citations: Patrick Tomasso, Bright Ideas, courtesy of Unsplash, https://unsplash.com/photos/1NTFSnV-KLs