Life is a dance to a beautiful song of spontaneity…
A gentle breeze
guides your movement toward a meadow of magic,
A technicolour field of flowers welcomes your passage,
Inviting you to smell the sweet infinite fragrances of life…
One flower smells so sweet
that you want to keep it,
So you cease dancing,
the music quietens,
so lost are you to this one thing,
No longer able to experience all that awaits.
You pick the flower,
Holding this precious moment in your hands,
As you do, you watch it lose its vibrancy as it turns to ash,
Slipping through your fingers.
You can stare at this nothing,
This empty space,
Holding onto what is now gone.
Or you can open your eyes, your heart,
To the gentle caress of the song that never ceased,
And allow the dance of life to recommence.