Like trying to hold on to the air,
Vain efforts that flow from a heart that has never been driven by sense.
The melody that moves her isn’t audible to those who watch from a distance,
To them her dance seems awkward ,
In ignorant bliss they judge and walk away,
But her soul knows well there is no other tune that exists.

So she dances, full of hope, led by faith,
Confident that the Master Composer is the creator of her song,
A ballad that resonates with notes of passion, crescendos of joy,
Splashes of color – oh if rainbows had a voice!
The striking of the black and white harmonizing into a beautiful melancholy of gray.

She dances, completely aware of her surroundings,
Constantly battling the ever accusing voice that compels her to stop.
“Sit this one out,” he whispers,
But even in her weariness she cannot deny the desire that presses her on.
Sometimes in her loneliness she cries, “Is there anyone who will dance with me?”
Other times, all alone, she marvels in the touch of the unseen hands that guide her.

Come sunshine and rain, hope and despair, laughter and tears,
There is one thing that is certain,
She will dance.
Until her hearts beats no more,
Until her ears are deafened and the music is silenced,
Until mercy runs away and grace closes the curtain,
Until there is absolutely nothing left inside,
She will dance….