Echoes Of A Classical Dancer
The soul reminds me gently -
Once, you were a classical dancer,
Your feet knew rhythm,
Even now, beneath the silence,
that beautiful dancer still lives in you.
Did time steal it away from my hands,
or did I quietly let it slip?
I regret not knowing
why I left it unattended.
When I listen to classical melodies,
my mind sketches circles of movement,
my hands and feet awaken,
remembering what they once were.
I look at the anklets resting still,
and wonder why I chose to stop.
It wasn’t just dance,
it was a feeling,
a feeling words can never explain
the sweat,
the discipline,
the endless hours of practice.
Some days, when I am alone,
I move to the beat in silence.
The soul within me rises,
brimming with forgotten excitement.
Thank you Amma,
for planting this talent.
Yet I often wonder
did I nurture it enough,
or did I let it fade too soon?
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