The Ballroom

The dancefloor is empty. I no longer can hear the faint and gentle hum of the final note resounding along these walls. The music faded a long time ago. I did not dance with the others, when moments ago this grand ballroom was filled with laughter and music, twirling and dancing, singing and romance.

And now, it is empty, my only company being the quiet onlookers from above, that are the stars. They dance along open skies and wordlessly invite me to do the same. But I remain still, in the center of the spacious dancefloor, silver moonlight pouring in from the large windows. The ballroom is dark aside from this light, which is given abundantly from the glowing moon. She longs to dance too, but fears to move. I know that fear.

But oh, how romantic, how lovely the thought, if only some humble and rugged soul would then enter this empty room, and gladly take my hand in his, leading me along the soundless and open floor in a graceful waltz. Oh, how elegant. I cannot help but picture it.

There comes a sound from the doors, and there you stand, your face graced with the silver moonlight. You catch my eyes, with a look of one who is weary by day, but so suddenly alive now in spirit. Your smile is free.

My heart is quick to wonder, anxious to know, as are my eyes to watch you come nearer. Will you stay a while, my friend, will you dance with me?