Perspective – A Poem

Sarah Scerbak, Writer

It was hot,
not the easy
relaxing
crisp air
you breathe
in the beginning days
of May.

No,
it was musty, humid.
You breathe
but nothing fills your lungs
in your own bubble
shrinking,
shrinking,
shrinking
with every breath.

That was just the air.

I looked around.
Chaos.
All of them
running from
something
or someone
now,
or a memory
that they desperately wish
would
go away.

It was hot;
flames encompassed them all,
an inescapable burn
from the world.

Their faces
marked,
scarred,
broken,
tired,
exhausted.
It was hell,

all except for one.

It was hell,
sure.
But she wasn’t running.
She had music
flowing through her ears,
the lyrics
and melodies
pulsing through her veins,
like an electric current
igniting her soul.
Her body seemed
to match the rhythm
of the music.
Every beat
kept her moving
graciously
as if her world
wasn’t as it appeared.

She was
dancing
throughout
the fiery chaos
that is life.

Everyone’s running from something, right?
The question is:

Do you want to run from it,
or dance with it?