Learning How to Dance
The beat of the drums shook the Earth,
but my feet remained unmoved,
tripping and trying to search
for the right jive and groove.
Trickling in from the heavens
came that fateful, unexpected storm,
a flood of lines and letters
in my mind waiting to be born.
"Dance!" the words commanded,
pounding in my head.
My hidden inner rhythm had landed
and it took away my dread.
I felt a rush of sensations:
Hot, sweet, cool, mild,
Open, new, real, wild.
All eyes were on me,
my essense radiating with
the notes of a song that refused to be tempered,
that refused to falter,
that refused to listen,
that refused to cease.
The portal to my soul
spilled out its contents,
for the world to see,
for the air to taste,
for the wind to hear,
for the earth to feel.
I stamp my feet in the soil,
without direction or hesitation,
not understanding my movements,
but continuing to dance anyway.
The whispers in my soul,
guiding my steps.
In this ethereal moment, the merging of power and helplessness,
Predictability and neuroticism,
Understanding and confusion,
I dance.
And I continue to dance until my muscle ache
from the exertion of parts of me that I never knew existed.
Here I was, a meek girl with nothing but doubts
and supressed beats,
moving my feet in ways unknown to me.
Where is this coming from?
And what does it mean?
"Let it flow," my body demanded,
"The secrets lie inside,
Poetry is your teacher,
And your lesson has just arrived."