A Poem by Fabrice Poussin
A dancer as Degas may have once painted you;
misty in a corridor bathed in a subtle light,
you seem to waltz as you skip from tile to tile.
Not a sound, just a hazy envelope of light,
surrounded by a dream, nothing could be more real;
eyes semi closed, a heart softly murmurs a praise.
Giddiness is not a question to be pondered,
every fiber of your being floats in a tenuous dance;
your dress shapes a skin of pearls, diamonds and gold.
Your lips, your soul, your every breath a subtle smile,
gently your chest heaves a life you generously share;
a gift few can comprehend, fewer are able to make.
Continue on your path little girl, a fall is unlikely;
come closer, it seems the universe leads you forward,
inexorably as it was meant to be when the world began.