I live off a road that is both treacherous and thrilling. It is a 3 mile stretch of hairpin curves up a slight mountain. On a spring day, with the windows down and the foot heavy on the gas- there is no other feeling! However, the weather in the hills and valleys of Tennessee does not always remember that it is in the south. Sometimes, it does not act accordingly to the laws we have set forth: It is either fall, spring or summer. Winter has no place here.
Winter has laughed at our rules, turning that mountain road into a curiously misplaced ski slalom. I am, for the first time, without 4WD during the winter. So this 3 mile curve took me 20 minutes to drive.
Lucky, though- While driving at a snail's pace, hands griping the steering wheel as if that would help in the event of a slip- I noticed a young girl waiting for the school bus. Actually, I noticed her dance first, and the girl second. I have never seen someone dance with such abandon, except when I had tickets to the show.
This performance was free. Take that whichever way you choose- it was meant for both.
This is for the little girl who made me smile on the way to work...
Ballet Dancer at Fourteen
she moves slow as heartbreak
quick as memory. she is time, it
rushes past with hurried steps-
blends youth and fear into pirouettes
mind the eggshells of egos
she is the quiet before the fury
the still form of silence ahead of
change in the air
music in her begins a new beat
left hand strokes right arm
brushes away youth
right hand strokes left arm
sweeps away fear
she leaves behind uncertainty
leaves only dance.
What is your beauty today?