You look beautiful today.
I caught you.
I caught you in a dance.
I wonder what you hear.
What song causes you to move the way you do?
Is it fast or slow?
Is it filled with harmonious whistling accompanied with violent crescendos?
What is this dance you dance?
Is it ‘Atilogu’ or ‘shoki’?
Is it ‘ballet’ or ‘pasodoble’?
Were the others singing and dancing along?
They stand tall yet you fall.
How are you able to bend so far and still look glorious?
They might mock you, but I don’t.
I bet the one who sent the winds to sing their song in the night time doesn’t mock you.
He may have been walking through at the time.
The song of the winds announced His entry and so you shook with trembling and responded accordingly.
Oh, how did He look? I beg you, tell me.
Was He, oh so bright with an orange flaming countenance adorned with a thousand colours displayed in a spectrum of a thousand rainbows?
Those are the rumours.
The story goes, when you meet the one who sends the winds to sing their song, you never remain the same.
Something shifts, maybe even breaks so that you are forever changed.
I can't hear the song, but I see your dance.
Others may not, but I see what it has cost you.
Now I wonder, can I dance along too?
Am I ready for so violent an outburst?
What will it cost me? Will I be broken too?
Only if I could hear the song, then I'll understand why the winds must sing.
I'll have no choice than to fall to my knees.
Then, I might find the courage to join in the song of the winds and dance of the trees.