My Body

My body Was made to dance. This is a fact, Not a truth That could be manipulated Like a piece of rope Being made into a knot. My body Was made to sway And flow, To dip low And reach high To the rhythms Of the universe. The rhythms Of a beating heart, Of wings beating the air, Of the crashing waves, Of everything I am fortunate to hear And translate into motion. Oh no, I am not a trained dancer, Who practices and practices To get the technique, Develop the form, And in the end, Add the passion, If it wasn’t there before. I won’t be found On stages dancing To Mozart, Miles or Eminem, Nor will I be found On dance floors With a number on My oh so erect back. I will be found On crowded dance floors, In my bedroom, In my living room, Under the moonlight, On beaches, Letting the rhythms of the universe Possess me. You would find me Dancing, Be it to a sassy salsa beat, A fun Bollywood tune, A little soca, Some reggae, Or a soulful piece of jazz. Be it to a rhumba, A fast pace techno, An irresistible house jam, A fusion of west meets east, A pop tune I can’t Get out of my head, You would find me Dancing. And even though, My mind says no, “You’ll make a fool of yourself,” “You don’t know how to dance to that,” My body ignores it, And taps a foot, Sways a hip, And before long, My body is in motion. My body Was made to dance. This is a fact, Not a truth.