John

White Satin

She dances upon a stage—  

    In a gown of white satin,  

    In her eyes, an intensity,  

    carrying a glow of quiet fire.  

 

The spotlight hums, a calming 

     rhythm, folding gently around her—  

She turns, sways, as if drawn,  

    by the pull of a moonbeam.  

Her breath steady, her steps,  

    effortless in the still air–  

 

A vision takes shape, lingering,  

    at the edge of her perception.  

 

As if she has always belonged 

     to this moment,  

as if this is where existence lies,  

    her purpose—to create.  

 

With angelic poise, grace drips  

    from her outstretched hands,  

Her movements whispering something  

    only she could hear.  

 

The tenement walls watch in silence—  

She faces herself within the frame of her mirror,  

    her audience, a reflection—she sees,  

    stand enraptured, this moment captured, 

inside, a part of her—  

 

And she dances, unbound, not for them,  

    not for the world—  

but for the quiet space within,  

    the place where hope breathes.  

 

Where time ceases—a place alive,  

     where dreams matter most.

Within the heart.

 

The lights dim, the music, entrancing. 

    As she dances upon a stage—  

In a gown of white satin.