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I am tripping over my own feet
And you are spinning around me to your own beat.
Stepping forward into your path
You extend your arms and let me in at last.
With a graceful pull you enhance the world all around
And we are pliéing to our hearts as sound.
Blooming beyond our tears is something unmastered
And we are chipping like withered plaster.
But in a moment you are open
And suddenly I find myself spinning away to defend.
Chasing after my grace and beauty,
Leading me to the beats decree.
Torn inside is a mess of failed dances
But together we are a tangle of careful paces.
It has just begun, the fear of failing.
But the end of our fall is awaiting.
Dance it out among the crowd
And scream with joy aloud.
Who cares who is watching
And who else matters but the two dancing?
You never know if you do not try,
And you never succeed if you always say goodbye.
Surrounded by a flame
And our dance floor is never the same.
But it's safe between us
Even if life shows that it was a mistake to trust.
Once it's over we take our final bow,
Surrounded by a burning sound.
But whether we burn or flee far away
Is up to the Judge who determines all fate.
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Hope in the Mourning
PoetryCOMPLETE ✔️ Highest ranking: #175 in Poetry! (3/15/17) - Where there is mourning, there is also hope. Despite the struggles and the losses we mourn-mental, physical, or emotional-good can come out of it. But even when there seems to be not hope as a...
