I saw a five-year old dancing
Impromptu, imperfect, innocence, dancing
in movement of free expression, dancing
in the universe that is his playground, dancing
in ascending gestures above his head, dancing,
in unhurried time. His chubby, little fingers, dancing
in unsuspecting reaching up to tickle the clouds, dancing
in soulfulness without restrictions.
I danced like this five-year old, a long, long time ago.
we all did ― danced like this five-year old, a long, long time ago,
before we were forced to learn the formal dances: the dances that came
with certain steps to take, careful steps to follow, and the order of
the steps to be preformed. We all danced like this before we were
forced to learn
when to step aside, when to follow in someone else’s foot step,
when not to take a step, when to lightly step around, when to use
our tippy-toes to step between, we were forced to learned
when to ignore the fact that we were stepped over,
when to take baby steps, when to step back, (which is the most
common movement in dances these days.) Stepping forward
will be less fashionable in future dances. It will become obsolete.
But in old age I find
the wonderful perception that aging is viewed
as the returning, increasing stages of a childlike mind,
some see it as the horrors of senility that will become worse in time
I see it as dancing like a five-year old and it suites me fine.
So once again I am dancing,
Like a five-year old unreservedly, dancing
Impromptu, imperfect, innocence, dancing
in movement of free expression, dancing
in the universe that is my playground, dancing
in ascending gestures above my head, dancing,
in unhurried time. My wise, spiritual fingers, dancing
in suspecting reaching up to touch the heavens, dancing
in soulfulness without restrictions.
Thank God!!!!
by
James A. Porter
by
James A. Porter
