...The Dance...

I once saw an artist

so old he was age old

with death spading his deuce.

I asked if he’d loved life,

or was it all for nothing?

He simply replied,

“Young man, I have danced.  I have danced in the rain, and I have danced

on the pavements of smooth city streets.  You ask if it was for nothing,

and I will tell you I have danced.”

I pondered upon this for quite some time now,

and in thirty-nine years of living

I still haven’t danced.

I encountered the same artist

again last week . . .

He was painting the songs of voices he saw in the streets,

so I asked him to tell me a bit more about the dance.

He laughed a little as he passed me some wine, and

He simply replied,

“Young man, I have danced.  I have danced for fine wine; I have danced for beautiful women,

and I have danced for me.  You once asked if it was all for nothing,

and I still will tell you I have danced.”

And so for the remainder of my life, I will continue to ponder

and ascertain the meaning behind the dance,

but the only thing I can tell you, man . . .

is I still haven’t danced.