Friday, October 7, 2011

Map in her Shoe Bag














She did not know it was lost.
But she found it at the milonga.
She was not even searching
Or wondering where it went.


She found a treasure map
Hidden in her shoe bag.
Which would take her
Back to what she had lost--
Her own precious worth.
She opened the map and read:

Appraisal Need

When I hold you and dance,
I know what a gem of life you are --
Not a diamond in the rough
But an exquisite polished stone
With so many facets to bend light,
With so much depth within your bounds!
Only an expert in detail can describe you
And only a child fully can sense your worth.

I feel your inestimable worth
in your breath,
in your joy of movement
in the glint of diamond-eyes.

You, however, are the ultimate appraiser
Of your worth, your facets, your tone and timbre.
You must celebrate your uniqueness and beauty.

You are both the gem
And the appraiser.
Notice your detail.
Let your inner child
Sense your worth:

Priceless.


She looked up and took his hand --
The one who watched her finish the poem.
They danced, but all had changed.
She danced in a new way,
No longer on a trip to find the forgotten,
She danced as she did as a little girl --
With innocent confidence.
Brilliant. 
Radiant. 
Priceless.


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