Written an unknown number of years ago...pulled in 2005...dusted off today, to bring it back to life....
The Dance
here I go again playing with words
so stiff at times that even rhymes cannot give them grace
and then a trace of perfection presses for a new direction
not quite desired
yet so inspired it cannot be ignored
a two-edged sword
to twist the plot away from me
conspiracy of some feisty muse
maybe a ruse yet the fuse ignites
even excites me
until the symphony begins
the dancers spin and still I see the black and white beneath
the simple words bequeathed from sources undisclosed
no writer knows the giver, just the gift
forbidden fruit still rooted in the clay of millennia past
masthead of a journey begun
when thoughts were sung to tribal drums
they’re beating still to fill a need as old as life
and so I play
anxious to be sated
maybe even liberated by this
exhilarating
infuriating
invigorating dance.
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well done, debra.
blessings,
carolyn
presses for a new direction"
how well that's said!
and indeed the entire poem is delivered with
wisdom and genuine insight.
Some dance indeed!
John
I'm so glad you resurrected this rhythmic beauty. -gene.