The Dance

She can’t help herself –

her toes beg to tap on a dance-floor of gold.

Her feet undulate and shimmer, prance and quiver,

pulses of energy on surface of steel.

She teases and entices,

twirling and swirling to the beat of

the Universe’s great heart;

she intuitively moves

to its rhythmic cadence.

Her pace quickens as the music fades into the night.

Desperate, she tries one more move,

one more spin on the dance-floor,

and then,

spent,

her eyelids fall on the evening,

and the dance

is at an end.

I See…

 I see how you glow.

You seek out sunshine and swallow

it for breakfast; you soak up its rays and study its

delivery system.  You eat and drink and sleep and breathe

beams until they pour out of you like waterfalls of liquid energy.

Yours is an adept methodology, a course bent on assimilating

its manual…I see.  If I am to be sunshine – not just sense and

mimic, but become, cells must ingest heat, heart must

pump solar flares, core must collaborate with

sunspots.  I must satisfy this hunger

for radiance by feasting

on Light…