My Spotlight

I have learned of the social ways,
to hide my face and mind in the crowd.
Yet somehow, being partially invisible
has helped me grow.
I can hold my head up high,
let my glitter shine,
knowing that the spotlight awaits not far away.
I will wait useless hours
here at school,
but this isn't the place
where I show my cool.
Once a year, annually,
I
Dance
My life, my spirit,
my hours of practicing
shine on the stage.
Us
Clad in itchy, shimmering, tight costumes,
hair lathered in gel, faces in too-bright makeup
to make us look normal under the hot lights.
We move as one body,
twisting and turning,
leaping with the music
We
Dance!
In our glory
we shine
from the sweat from the spotlight.
Do we look like the angels,
the faries,
we portray?
I cannot even feel the pain
I cannot see beyond the stage
But, too soon,
the final note rings out.
It's over
Panting, we hold our pose
as the lights fade.
Somehow, we pull ourselves
together and offstage
in total darkness,
as the next dancers
Scamper past, anxious.
Soon
we'll be back too
once-a-week, too-infrequent rehearsals
but for now, for a mere 5 minutes,
we are our dreams,
glittering in the magical
dreamlight
spotlight
We are dancers,
and we'll never forget it.
Could everyone in this crowd
say that?

The Dance Inside

When I am sad, am down, am cranky
when I am missing you, when you are leaving me,
when the world seems to be made for teasing me,
then I know it is time.
Time to turn up the music and
turn down the thoughts,
Turn my mind from the world and
just lose it in love
Of the dance, of my life
in the celebration of all that is.
Soon it's as if
there's nothing that exists
except me and my music....
"all i ever needed was the music and the mirror..."
Can you feel it?
It's something that you can't find anywhere else,
it's inside of me, in my heart,
my mind,
in me.
And when I stop, I know that
the world will return,
and you will be there, and the sorrows,
and the math next tomorrow. . .
but I also know that the next time
when I am feeling needy,
the music is there, and the mirror,
and the dance inside of me.

Cut

Wishing, she runs up to the list.
Cut,
but it's no heartbreak.
Life doesn't hold tryouts,
she knows that.
Mind a jumble of whisper and wanting,
she continues on out the door.
Accompanies others in dreams of glory -
an old life, a past life
she once knew.
What looks easiest never is,
she knows that,
for her happy-go-lucky smile
easily fails her.
Mascara shine smudges
into a frown.
She can dance her heart out again,
but it will always hurt tomorrow.
So what drives her
to do a split again?
You could rip my heart out
but I'd keep on dancing.
Only one performance in only one life;
dance spans dimensions unknown.
Dancing through this room
I leave my footprints behind.
Cut, but not for long.
See you at try-outs again
next year.

The Promise

Her ballet shoes are brand new,
pink leather, full sole.
Her body can remember plies,
yet she never really learned fifth position.
Her balance is off,
her arms awkward,
her turnout not that good.
But her body is ready and willing
to let the dance come again.

IT happened one day long ago,
she told herself that she'd be a
dancer one day.
She made the promise with a full heart,
a promise of pointe shoes and something more.
Now's the time to make her dreams come true,
the feeling of regret is nothing new.
There's something inside of her that wants the chance
this is one dancer that needs the dance.
The girl is tired, the night is long,
since not many dancers know this song,
and she can't get up in the morning.
But still she remains
ready and willing.
She made a promise,
and she must dance.