Poem For Improv (2)
Glorious Yesss, the art of improv,
A realm where courage dares to thrive.
No lines prepared, no plans to chart,
Just the spark of creation, a beating heart.
They rise to the stage, unafraid to show,
What blossoms in the moment’s glow.
Each word a flame, each leap a dance,
Truth unfolds, given a chance.
The room ignites, the air alive,
Hungry for tales that make us thrive.
Messy, raw, imperfectly divine,
A magic shared, a human sign.
We, the watchers, lean in close,
Feeling the pull of what matters most.
Their stories—curious, wildly true—
Unlock a piece of me and you.
This sacred craft, embracing the unknown,
Stepping forward, flaws unshown.
Not for perfection, not for acclaim,
But for connection—the true flame.
