Dance.

Twisting and turning, continuously twirling,
A hurricane of moves that’s endlessly swirling.
Feeling graceful and glorious,
Nothing feels more victorious

When I continue to move, with the rhythm and beat,
I am in my own world, just me and my own two feet.
The lights shine upon me, the audience is mine,
They all watch in awe, finding nothing more divine.

I am gliding and flying, on, and on,
You think I’m here, but I’m really gone,
For I’m absorbed in my work, my beauty, my art,
There’s nothing more that is desired by my heart.

Music is beating in my chest; I bring it to life,
My body responds, and I continue in my strife.
The stage beneath my feet is my land, my very own dance floor,
But as you watch me you see it’s much more.

So as the song begins to come to a close,
And my body slows and grows to a light pose,
The audience plaudits, shows that it was a job well done,
And I’m just as glad, for that number was only but one.

So I take a breath, and then go on,
For now, I know, the dance lives on.

Dance.