The Dancer and The Wolf
Her smile compliments the movement and grace of her forms
Like a Dancer on the Ballet floor of life
she hurls herself into the air
She barely touches the dance floor, she calls home
How serene
His piercing eyes convey his dissatisaction of current events
Like a wolf on the hunt he stalks his adversary
He is rarely seen in the Concrete wilderness, he calls home
How predatory
She dances with precision and fluidicity,
changing as the "music" does
He stalks with cunning and animal-like instinct,
changing as his "prey" does
But, when together, the dancing is halted and the hunt is aborted
They are happy just being together
They dance to a new type of dance
and they hunt a new type of hunt
The "Dance" is that of Life's gentler side
And the "Hunt" is that of Life's simpler pleasures
I dedicate this poem to my "Little Sis", Kym.
Although miles and miles apart,
we still "dance" to the dances and "hunt" to the hunts.
It is in our natures as individuals.
