Waiting for the audience

He had a hobby that he'd like to turn into a job.
He had a calling to communicate the word.
He started quietly repeating the motif,
Building up a head of steam,

Finger picking generating heat.
Oblivious to his surroundings,
Lost in the moment,
Reeling here and there.

He'd waited for the audience, but grown impatient.
He'd waited for the audience, but given up that ghost.
He'd waited for the audience, but none waited: only passing in a moment.