The Dance

Dance. 
I see you dancing before me, my sweet girl. 
Completely free. 
Those early days you felt unhindered. 
Confident. Innocent. 
Dance. 
I see me, seeing you. 
Free, satisfied. What joy in my heart. 
I birthed beauty. 
A mystery. Beyond words. 
It breaks me in half, tears me in two. 
Often choices that never beckoned me, shriek out from the sidelines. 
Referees in my mind offering up rules, regulations, penalties. 
Dance. 
We learn together this parent-child relationship. 
Awkward like steps to a dance, unknown. Stepping on toes, tears. 
Frustrating moments and laughter, too. 
The desire to stomp out. 
Still stronger the longing to stay, and master each moment. 
Pressed close.
This dance…
In case you are unsure about my little writing excursion, 
then just head on over to Lisa-Jo’s place:
Five Minute Friday

Published by enthusiasticallydawn

Dawn Paoletta is a life enthusiast who loves to juggle words, chug coffee, and journal excessively. You can find her gathering stones on the beach most mornings. She enjoys hanging out with her hubby, daughter and family pets in Narragansett, RI and shares her passion, poetry and prose @Enthusiastically, Dawn.

9 thoughts on “The Dance

  1. Love this. I can totally picture this. How mother-daughter relationships can be and the whirling free dance of youth. I linked up behind yours at The Gypsy Mama and I'm so glad I did.

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  2. Oh my God. Yes, really, I mean that, OH MY GOD–HE gave you this. This powerful gift of poetry, this beautiful life of your daughter, this dance you share with her. The words “I birthed beauty”–they pierce to my heart (to every mother's heart). Yes, Yes, YES!

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