“Dancing Shoes” ~ A poem

We were here, suspended between sporadic choices and routine seasons, waltzing through each second with the desire to make a moment. 

We danced freely like the wind, weaving weightlessly through life’s contortions and were disparaged by nothing. 

We found ourselves lost, yet there was no fear or misunderstanding, we were lost in the study of the art of not knowing.

We grew old, as corrosion clawed at our wings and aged soles grew holes, revealing the frailty of our skin. 

We are here, dressed in the rust of our existence, the wind then whispers that we must return our timeworn shoes.