Life is like a dance, a salsa dance.
Its' bright and colourful-
noisy and loud and full of thrills-
and back-bending chills.
So diverse-
The universe a-speckled with colour and lights.
Beauty not to be beheld by an ignorant eye,
perhaps one with a mysterious secret.
A child in the mulch begging pardon, roaming.
Squealing while eating fresh parsley from the garden,
getting scratched by the green gates searching for adventure,
getting cut out of baby clothes and scrambling in the dirt...
While being chased under a fence by a horse.
When someone dies,
A collective sigh is felt by the weeping stars.
They twitch and quiver and lift them up, floating in a mass of airy, fairy-floss dust.
Cry, sigh champion.
Don't drown your lives in champaign.
Live and smell the grass when it rains,
and feel the water kiss your skin.
Even strangled by cobwebs,
When the lights at the salsa turn dim
Never chase your ghosts through your closets; never ever, again.