DANCE (Original Poetry) [Day 8]

MOFE’S PERISCOPE OF DANCE.

A unique art all by yourself
Uniquely setting the world free in ways jail freedom can’t comprehend
You should be proud, for you have the power to give every emotion an expression
Speaking every intent without words

Fascinating, really
The way you transport lives from the physical realm through time and space to ones best imagined
Levitating through rough edges and landing with seemless balance
Diligently instilling discipline every step of the way

If only medication knew it could never comprehend your healing prowess
Defying norms and introducing dancers to their rawest selves
No kind of expression rendered of you is meaningless

Your sync with the human heart is the hope of lovers
Words may fail in their bid to express
Sometimes words aren’t enough
You always find a way for exist through expressions.

Below is another version all conveying the same idea and my first write-up before the one above.

I want to be a dancer.
Wait a minute,
Hear me out.

I always knew I needed to express how I felt one way or another.
Writing didn’t always cut it, although gave me a lot of relieve.
A loyal companion through the years I must add.
Sometimes though, I wanted more...

Then one day,
I danced...
Hours passed and I was there dancing to no music
And I felt free and calm,
Guess bottled-in emotions had formed an energy that wanted out.
Hence, my why.

I love how dance has a way to express every emotion.
I especially love dance because it says it all without words and sometimes I just don’t want words.
I love how a passionate dance removes you from the physical realm into which ever you levitate to.
I love how it soothes and heals and it’s not even medication.
It’s not for a kind of people, instead it goes on to unite peoples.
I feel dancing gives freedom, a kind being set free from jail can’t comprehend.
It helps you let go of norm, uptightness and leaves you in your rawest state.
I love how it accommodates every single persons way of movement.

I need to be a dancer,
I want to be a dancer,
I have to be a dancer,
So when writing isn’t enough I have a go to.
So maybe I’ll one day dance to the extent of meeting my truest self.

Do you get it?
Words fail sometimes.
Other times, they aren’t needed or aren’t enough.
Expressions must however continue to be made.
Hence, my desire.

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