I wish to dance. To leap and fly and spin.
I wish to jump, to confidently move and pause with the music. To feel the intensity vibrate my very being.
To roll my shoulders and flex my arms, kicking with pointed toes and throwing my head back with passion. Curling my fingers and coordinating my body to create art within movement.
To fling myself around in stupor, smiling and laughing all the way. To trust my body in a primal way.
I wish to push my body to the limit, to stretch until I am incapable, to build emotion into the foundation of my actions and pulse with the sound. I wish for my lungs to burn with pride and my muscles to ache with confidence.
I wish to execute with conviction, with power, with virtue. I wish to meet with the spirit of Dance, to flirt with her as we move in and out of sync.
I wish for the pure and untouched euphoria of mixing movement with sound, with exploiting the pauses and tones. I wish to feel, to express, to be.
I wish to Dance.
About the Creator
Katie Harder
I'm an aspiring poet and short story/novella author. I enjoy the Office and being outdoors with my two beautiful pups, Sauci and Mia. I'm 17 years young, and love to read and write!
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The Trees of Grand Lake, Colorado
The trees reaching, their leaves like hands, branches like fingers; fingers trying to grasp the last of the sunshine's rays before he slowly dips over the horizon, not to be seen by these trees again until the crack of dawn. The calm water a dark orange, smiles and sends small waves to the shore; the trees not only soak up the water, but also the smile. You see, they've been dying by the thousands recently because of beetles, digging their way up, underneath the beloved bark, and stealing the trees' life force. The trees, old and young, wise and not, could use a little happiness and maybe even a little help. Though old, they make mistakes. Mistakes not to be taken lightly to the naked eye.
By Katie Harder6 years ago in Poets
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