Poetry in Motion

She walks, and the world forgets to breathe, Each step a stanza, soft beneath. The wind rewrites its course to trace The rhythm rising from her grace. Eyes that flicker like candlelight, Words unsaid, but burning bright. A sway, a turn, the air responds— As if she's dancing with the dawns. Not penned in ink, nor caught in rhyme, But fluent in the pulse of time. Every heartbeat, every sigh, A verse that floats, then flutters by. She doesn’t speak—she simply moves, And in her silence, rhythm proves That poetry is not just heard— It’s seen, it’s felt, in every wordless word. So watch her once, and you will see The soul's own choreography— Where grace and fire find devotion… A living poem. Poetry in motion.