05-05-2013, 12:39 PM
Sunlight pierces my window,
lines of yellow split the room.
Filling the air in humble splendor,
forgotten throngs of a dusty ensemble.
They fade into view, taking the stage,
dancing, twirling, flipping, turning,
up and down, about and around.
There seems a purpose to their presence
a music to their moves,
a story to be told.
I ponder what story it could be
that these tiny dancers sing to me.
Its meaning awaiting discovery,
if only I had a cipher.
Before I blink, they cross into the shadows,
lost forever but still dancing,
replaced by another but still spinning,
not in my view but still in my room,
the story still unfolds.
lines of yellow split the room.
Filling the air in humble splendor,
forgotten throngs of a dusty ensemble.
They fade into view, taking the stage,
dancing, twirling, flipping, turning,
up and down, about and around.
There seems a purpose to their presence
a music to their moves,
a story to be told.
I ponder what story it could be
that these tiny dancers sing to me.
Its meaning awaiting discovery,
if only I had a cipher.
Before I blink, they cross into the shadows,
lost forever but still dancing,
replaced by another but still spinning,
not in my view but still in my room,
the story still unfolds.