For the second poem in my 365 Poems Project, I wanted to do something a bit more personal. There seems to be an undercurrent of dance in my life, in my thoughts; yet, I don’t really dance – I simply don’t know how to. Without focusing on that paradox, I decided to write something that used some of the elements of dance – its delicate intensity, evocativeness, and fluidity – to give a fresh perspective on young love.

 

We danced,
danced away
the black night,
our worries, our cares
about now or later
or where we’re headed,
faithfully, like whirling
dervishes caught up in the rhythm –
the to and fro
of some unknown melody
playing upon the heart
in its native tongue –
and the moment.

Gliding
along not-quite-virgin surfaces
of now-still mountain lakes
time had hidden from the world,
forgotten after the last storm;
we dared not touch
for fear of polluting;
but how we longed to swim
in those cool waters,
to plunge heartfirst
into their unexplored depths,
to discover what treasures
lie beyond the mirror-like faces.

Shyness is overcome –
we are fearful of reading
yet another Missed Connections
classified, wondering
if it’s us they seek –
we take a chance
and pursue our fixations,
giving in
to deeper desires – hopes
and dreams and futures;
maybe, together.

Touched
and now tangled, we fall
faster and deeper
into that all-too-familiar trance
of lights and sounds –
but blind and deaf,
all go unnoticed;
we sense nothing
beyond each other –
devoid of meaning.

Guided by memories
of times not yet passed, we practice
like we’ve practiced a thousand different ways
in the thousand different visions
we’d always conjured up; following
paths willed into being.

We carry on
whirling, hand in hand,
still tangled, until night
bids us farewell. Our matchmaker
departs, leaving us to the quiet
stillness that portends our own farewells
and separation – we’ll start drifting
further and farther
apart; we panic –
far too soon. But we aren’t,
never will be, ready
to go; we need more.

Striking up a beat, slow
and steady, we play
something of our own design,
composing as we go
as we see fit; promising
one another, we’ll dance
until we’ve forgotten how
to say goodbye.

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