A Sorrowful Dance

By Edward Taylor III

A Sorrowful dance in the wind, performed by an excluded soul lost in sin, tears fall as pirouette’s call to the lost soul,

hopelessness twirls with blind perception, darkness calls with a malicious obsession.

Broken inside, strength subsides, to a sorrowful dance in the wind.

“Where is the comfort, the loving embrace, who will wipe these tears from my face?”

Under the stars you can see the dancer scarred:

Leaping to grasp the joy seemingly so far out of reach, distant as the mocking moon, silent & sweet,

Who is this that dances with sorrow in the wind?

The motions of this dancers’ gloom ignite the fierceness of question: “Where is my hope, where is my solace, where…

WHERE?”

The ground is struck, pounded by clinched fists,

“NO MORE!”

Is the cry as the dancer sits, drenched in sweat & self-regret: with eyes to the sky & arms raised the dancer is lifted up by the wind to dance once again,

Then a whisper is heard in the night sky:

“Hold on my dancer your salvation draws nigh”…