Like an angel she twirls,
hands aloft in youthful grace
oblivious to the crowd,
just music and motion exist,
nothing more.

Like an angel I see her,
twirling in the safe warm glow
of places beyond, of which
I can only dream and my arms cannot reach.

Oh that I could dance with you
and sing the words quietly as you move!
But life has moved too, so I sing to Heaven
and pray you hear.

Dance, sweet little one.
Close your eyes and spin gently through the moment.
I will close my eyes too,
and find you in that place where music and motion exist,
nothing more.

(c) Copyright 1998, Greg Sanders