There’s a video of a man dancing:
he starts by crawling through the dust
over sand and rough stones.
He moves while people walk past,
ignoring him and his beat.
He seems lost,
having been rejected again.
They’re missing his moves,
his unique rhythm and
how it will change the world.
Finally, he recruits one man
to pass the movement on
before collapsing on a bench, depleted.
It is not until another joins this man
that the dance can be finished.
I’m getting tired of picking myself
up and out of the dust.
I wish I could find that man
who will pass the movement on
so that I, too, can finish my song.
Maybe he’s in the legions of losers
I join now, not knowing if I can dance,
only that I am not alone,
that failure makes me harder
after doubt cuts away resent.
The dancer moves despite
the judging looks of passers by.
I guess I will too,
throwing my head back to silent music,
smiling at those who cannot hear it
(praying for someone who can)