We fill each day with ourselves, our personalities on display,
dancing with others, 
smiling, frowning, laughing, crying,  passion over flowing in variety of ways.
We are giving our selves to the world, hoping they receive who we are, hoping...
they feel the rythem with us,
sway to the music with us,
          step, two, three, four,
                  glide, round and cross the floor.

The dance brings us closer, more intimate, so close that the sway become automatic, 
no more counting one foot, two foot, 
because we have history on the floor together.
When one moves-  we naturally move with them,
Our breath syncs up. Our hearts beat together:
 One body on the floor many expressions through each of us.

And then...  last call.  The house lights flicker on, bringing the dance floor to a halt.
Partners will bow a final adieu, some even courtsey 
as the final act of departing to seperate places of life:
A reminder that our selves can not be eternally present 

We speak good byes and wave a hand - and the little death begins,
a moment that is closed entering the annuals of the past.

Where do we turn when that death takes hold... 
to the invitation of course, 
to the next sound of authentic personality, boldly radiating it's own beat, 
drawing us in,
 to dance a new move once again.