My Body

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My body
Was made to dance.
This is a fact,
Not a truth
That could be manipulated
Like a piece of rope
Being made into a knot.

My body
Was made to sway
And flow,
To dip low
And reach high
To the rhythms
Of the universe.

The rhythms
Of a beating heart,
Of wings beating the air,
Of the crashing waves,
Of everything
I am fortunate to hear
And translate into motion.

Oh no,
I am not a trained dancer,
Who practices and practices
To get the technique,
Develop the form,
And in the end,
Add the passion,
If it wasn’t there before.

I won’t be found
On stages dancing
To Mozart, Miles or Eminem,
Nor will I be found
On dance floors
With a number on
My oh so erect back.

I will be found
On crowded dance floors,
In my bedroom,
In my living room,
Under the moonlight,
On beaches,
Letting the rhythms of the universe
Possess me.

You would find me
Dancing,
Be it to a sassy salsa beat,
A fun Bollywood tune,
A little soca,
Some reggae,
Or a soulful piece of jazz.

Be it to a rhumba,
A fast pace techno,
An irresistible house jam,
A fusion of west meets east,
A pop tune I can’t
Get out of my head,
You would find me
Dancing.

And even though,
My mind says no,
“You’ll make a fool of yourself,”
“You don’t know how to dance to that,”
My body ignores it,
And taps a foot,
Sways a hip,
And before long,
My body is in motion.

My body
Was made to dance.
This is a fact,
Not a truth.