Ode To Dance Thanks to dance I can Express myself without words, With motions and turns and music and expressions. I can see the marley black and sequined Smell the sweat in the air Hear the clapping, 1,2,3’s, and mix of pop, classical, and everything in between, all throughout the studio filling the air with sound. Dance is like flying, freeing and lifting, all cares float away as I pirouette and jete my heart out. Dance tells me to just Express and put on a show. The studio is a second home, I spend long nights, Lots of laughs, and doing each other's hair in the hall. It’s girlhood and childhood. everything I can remember and things I can’t as well. It’s serene; no cares or worries. The rest of the world fades away. The teachers are like aunts, Other dancers are like cousins and sisters. My earliest memories are at that studio. Wearing a costume on my birthday, looking up to the “big girls” as a little 5-year-old, Meeting one of my best friends in I Can Dance when I was 2, Getting my makeup done and hair curled in a school bathroom so I could be at the studio for pictures. Like walking on water and talking with angels, The sound of girls doing jumps on the Marley as it creaks beneath them. The itchy costumes and the sequined ones, all kept in the dark of a random closet in the basement To look at later. Poses getting harder for pictures and the conditioning killing us. We complain and laugh and have silent games of tag in class. The inside jokes and old memories we laugh at in the middle of class. This is dance.
Poem by me for ELA image from google
