When the old man got up to dance his limbs flailed everywhere.
Some people watching began to laugh…but the old man didn't care.
He closed his eyes and pictured in his mind waves dancing upon the shore
then he smiled, swayed to the music…and then he danced some more.
As his arms and legs began to thrash and as he buckled at the knees…
he’d pictured himself a bird waltzing on air or the wind dancing in the trees.
“Dancing is a lot like life,” he believed,…
in both there is an art…
In one you learn to dance with your feet…
in another to dance with your heart.
So he danced and he danced and he danced…
every time he got the chance…
and every stumble he incurred…
he made part of the dance…
And he smiled no matter what happened…
as he danced through life each day
Because, he knew: what good is life if he can’t enjoy…
each step along the way.
And so the old man danced…
and his dancing was entrancing…
and he never cared what other might think…
for he was much too busy dancing.
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