The Dancer
He stands before himself,
Studying his physique,
Front ways, backside sideways,
Moving right-left and left-left feet.
Music education and the fine art of expression,
The early connection is never made,
Do-si-do, a round peg in a square role,
The final exam is the promenade.
He stands before himself,
Barely giving the image a glance,
Fears subside as eyes meet eyes,
Because his spirit needs to dance.
Untying and releasing thoughts,
He moves forward into a familiar endeavor,
From the edges a wallflower blooms,
The rhythm is his at last and forever.
Given all that nature could possibly give,
He dances without realizing how,
Flowing with, against, around and between,
A whetstone for the house of style.
[From Eloquence: Rhythm & Renaissance by Usiku at http://www.usiku.net]