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