I Have a Right to Dance
I have a right to dance.
In my elder years, all sound has faded.
The once pure melodies are now atonal.
But kicking up a storm,
dancing is a revolutionary act.
I have a right to dance.
I awaken to a chorus of chanters,
I awaken to the legends and lore.
Part dream, part audio reception.
Part past life, part immaculate conception.
Part laugh, part delirious deception.
I am connected, I am comforted,
I am confronted, I am contorted
by forces ever so much larger,
by senses ever so much stronger.
I have a right to dance,
a right to prance in the human parade.
Like ants, my cells are self-organizing.
Like trees, my rings archive my story.
I smell and taste the music I recall.
I savor the instinctual harmonies,
the behavior of rhapsodies.
I deliver the symbolic pirouettes,
the mimetic genuflect.
All motion becomes a spectacle.
All movements shape a carnival.
With my body, I advance,
moods and dreamscapes, I enhance,
lost and forgotten in the endless expanse.
I have a right to dance!
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