to the beat of the sun

by Rupal sheth

The sun, a painter, with a brush of light,

Turned stark, still branches into dance's flight.

A jumble now, of arms and legs astray,

Unknown to me, they found a rhythmic way.

Sunlit dapples served as beats,

Hiding, seeking, creating sunlit feats.

They stretched and intertwined, a graceful sprawl,

To places I had never known at all.

Elongating lines, a reach profound and deep,

With every touch, a promise I would keep.

My longing bloomed, a push to go and dare,

A little pirouette here, a soft plié there.

No longer wood, but movement, fluid, free,

What light could do, it did, transforming me

A dancing being I am, not just any tree!