THE DANCER.

 [My thoughts of a woman who allowed me to dance in her ballroom]

I think love is really beautiful when you get it unexpectedly, when you are not looking for it , it just finds you.
I found love too in her, not in that exact moment but the more we grew closer.
I realised she too is made of pieces of love and her definition of it.

As difficult as it may be at times, she is a book worth reading,
every word, every sentence, every chapter.
This woman has the tendency to make me feel like her hands created and shaped the heavens and the Earth.
Where the world is her dance floor and the choreography is driven by her passion.

I watch as she dances, like trees do on a rainy windy day.
Moving so powerfully, effortlessly, like a feather spiraling down onto the grass.
I might not have two left feet but she has taught me how to dance like her and what shoes to dance in depending on the dance floor.

She could have been a goddess of a ballerina if she wanted to.
There are times I two step and disturb her routine or footwork and take her a million steps backwards after she fought to get those steps together.
Those are the days where dancing feels like stagnant water bodies:
No vibrations, No movement, just silence.

However, this woman comes back and assures me that those steps weren't enough to take me all the way out of her dancing room.
Therefore the approach to learning now has to be different.

I forget that you cannot do every dance with the same shoes, so find ones with better stability and grip.
Is one ever too late, when it comes to dancing in a ballroom ?