A goddess on the dance floor;
Rhythm is her divinity
If this place be the cradle of life;
And music is the root of all self-awareness,
She is the first to experience the beat of the drumming and mimic her body into motion,
Inspiring all to answer her call to arms by standing-up-right!
Many millennia may have passed since that fateful moment,
Is it still any wonder these rhythms and movement resonate within you and I?
Her acolytes still gather to watch her sermons;
Her movements are the orator,
And her body is a testament to her dedication and artistry;
An idol worthy of worship, forged with grace and favour;
Are we not all misfits in comparison?
Looking on at this exquisite creature for answers,
With prayers and offerings for salvation;
A shadow dancer of old, making contortions in slow-motion ;
Leaving all that befall her fanatics enthralled and slack-jawed, even after all this time,
Belying the truth: we have not evolved as much as we’d like to believe;
And remain mesmerised by the beauty of movement given life!