Lunges with weights
Controlled rage
To make one great
Higher and higher
The jump
Deeper and deeper
The stretch
Flying high
Across the room
Your own feet
Propel you far
A few minutes of pain
To get a high leg
A bit more strength
To get a high extension
A little anger
For a beautiful dance
-
Author:
NinjaGirl (
Offline) - Published: April 14th, 2025 11:17
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments3
Took dance lessons for a year or two and at times it was painful but the fun after was worth it. But I take this as more than meets the eye. Live is a dance and at times learning that dance is painful. A lovely write
thank you!
Life is like constantly going to the gym and going through different pain levels just to make a little progress. They say no pain no gain, but sometimes it is just too painful, nicely expressed and written write
Yes, very true, thank you for reading!
You are very welcome
So verrrry cathartic, my friend. Dance...no...not just dance or performance, but the practice of it---the are of perfecting it---pushing oneself to jump and lift and stretch higher. A release. An explosion of raw energy (in this case rage) out into the cosmos. Something beautiful emerges. Not just the dancer, not just the dance, but...deliverance. And not just for the one dancing, but also for the ones who are blessed to experience the dance for themselves. A most brilliant metaphor for life and much more and, hopefully, I have not just murdered it! 🤣 But it really spoke so much to me, literally (I happen to love to dance) and metaphorically. Brava, my dear friend! You just positively slayed anyone who read this. Pure ninja brilliance. I mean that! 🌹👏
Thank you for this lovely comment! I love dancing as well, definitely a relief!
You are welcome. Indeed. It really is!
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.