I Am Flying Now

I am flying,
My feet barely touch the ground;
The music washes over me,
I roll and bruise my sound;

I dance no longer to your beat,
It no longer sings to me;
I have my own tune now,
A melody to be added onto;

I sit by and watch your dance,
I silently wait for my turn of expression,
A language of its own,
With no present companion;

I dance my own choreography,
How proud I really am;
Only a bit of my music is not my own,
A scatter of lost and found;

Only rarely now,
Do I feel the need to stand,
To join you in your dance;
But I have my own dance now.