kurt ulmer

The violins tease me. Come! Come dance! The enchantress waits. I hear the song and feel the touch of her hand. She invites me to dance. Unsure, I sway. Why me? I look into her eyes and know. We hold hands and move and turn and turn and turn as the melancholy air dissolves and the tempo quickens. Turn, turn, turn, turn. She spins while I hold her hand. We twirl as the melody takes us skywards, higher and higher towards brightness. We dare. My head spins. My heart beats to the music. I am the music. My love is the music. We are the music. We are alive.