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The Flying Ballerina

By Kevin Bell ©


This poem was written for me by someone who has been through some incredibly tough times and made it through having gained so much wisdom and compassion for others. I'm honoured to have inspired such a beautiful piece of art. I am sharing it with you all as I hope that you can gain something valuable from it. Come back and read it when you need to clear your head, read it if you're feeling low and need something to relate to, read it if you simply want some wonderful words to fill your whirling mind...


The Flying Ballerina

I hear your soul, silent and free

All below, and above the knee.

On the ball of your foot

Through heel and toe

It tells you daily

Where to go.

Brittle as sunlight

That will not tire

Supple and strong

As golden wire,

Slow-step, quickstep

Lower, meets higher

Hands hold aloft

Your deepest desire.

Movement heals

As stillness descends

Beginnings and endings

Making amends,

We watch in silence

As rhythm blends.

Few can do, what you

Have done

Most can barely

Walk or run.

A soul with wings

Can dance with ease

Somersault, through autumn

Trees.

Spin like an arrow

Twirl like a bird

Dance to the music

That few have heard.

You have tuned yourself

To perfect pitch

The poor man's song

Is sounding rich,

You sang yourself

Out of the ditch.

Now you face

The open road

Every step, in silent mode.

Others will learn

What you've become

Spin their web, with

Sense of fun,

Wonder how their dance

Begun,

When all they loved

Was on the run,

When every stich became undone.

The brittle sunlight

Spotlight clear

Cures with light

The darkest fear.

And maybe those

Who have lost their way

Will find in you, a better way

To live the lift that loves

The day. The lift that

Loves, through come

What may. You can

Turn on a sixpence

You can float on the

Air. You can hide with

Grace, how much you

Care. You can listen to

Hearts: with silent skill

To a difference dance, that

Can cure the ill. The one that

Awakens: in those halfdead,

Because of all the thoughts

That flood their head. You can

reach and teach. And hope and

Heal. Bring home the best that they

Can feel. Bring home the dance that

Make homes, real. Bring home the dreams

That ignite the sky, with living breathing

Reasons, why: we dance to tunes that

Make us try. The healing of others

Begins with ourselves. When we

Begin to embrace, our betters

Selves. When we welcome

The distance: that has yet

To be run. When we hallow

The stranger: living life

On the run. When we

Dance, like you: to a

Tune that is true,

When most of us

Walk, with an ill-fitting

Shoe. When we listen

Unspoken, to the hush of

A heart. That knows what it

Means, to be breaking apart.

Through the breath, and the

Words: the hint of a hearth,

The hope of a hand, the lure

Of a laugh. The lake and the

Land. When home is a heart.

Instead of a place. And the

You, that is you: is the

Soul, in your face. May the

Life that you love. Be the

Life that you live. At peace

With the love, that longs

To give. That all

Who would

Love, have

Reason

To

Live.

When we

Listen, to others

We hear ourselves

With our ear to the

Heart, of a thousand

Seashells. We are part of

Those oceans, that are part of

Us. We are caught in the motions

That rise, without fuss. As we sink with

Emotions, that question: our trust.

When we hear that deep ocean,

Feel every salt tear. The best of

Ourselves: is silent and near.

Waves topple and turn, as we

Wonder and learn. The sun

Dries our pain. But spares us,

The burn. The waves: and our,

Thoughts: somehow reconnect

As if the heart of ourselves: we

Were, trying to: neglect. The movement,

The senses: start working as one.

Drawing us back: to where we

Belong. The stillness enfolds us

As memories: hold us. And the

Moment, enrols us: in the current

Of life! When to breath out. When to

Breath in. When to resist. When to

Give in. When to step out. When to

Step in. When to say, let the dance

Begin!



These words bring tears to my eyes and an ache in my heart. They deserve the love of all of you who read it. Please check out more of Kevin's work on amazon, and support the Cinderella Charity by purchasing his self-published book Where the Wild Poppies Grow.


Please let me know what you thought of this post in the comments, I love to hear from all of you!


Love and hugs,


Rachel xxx

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