Their's a Girl I Know

There’s a girl I know,

one who embodies dance in my eyes,

one who taught me something

I never quite understood.

Now I recall how that time was.

She held the starting position,

hands rise to form a lotus above her head,

weight settles on one leg,

anklets resting against stillness,

the other foot crossed lightly behind.

Back facing us.

Her hair lies long and open,

black against her spine.

The melody of flute rises.

Her hands loosen,

fall into motion,

and the body takes over.

Then in a beat,

it all starts to enchant.

Her hands guide my gaze,

hair following behind, brushing her face,

that land every expression to the beat.

The long skirt dances too, with her light feet,

ringing softly against the floor.

Her feet remember before her mind does.

Each step lands where it has landed a thousand times before.

Anklets answer the floor.

The body does not hesitate.

I can only smile and watch in awe, of the dance she performs, knowing full well what goes behind it.

The times her feet ache,

the times she loses count of hours passed.

Times she just falls asleep in classes.

Times she stumbles, but a smile lingers on.

The music ends,

she hops off the stage catching her breath,

as her steps ring loud.

Applause swells.

She lifts a hand, says thank you,

and disappears back into the crowd.

A.V