The art of expression

Of movement and color

Of sound and style

The expression of people

Man, woman

Fat, skinny 

Desirable, ugly 

The expression of society

I watch those who create, 

Their colors swirl and collide with pride

In perfect prophecy 

Of who one will be.

How does one decide to exult expression?

How does one decide who to be?

How does one weave the colors of the world,

Into their clothes, hair, skin, sound, and dance?

How does a clumsy one show gracefulness?

How does the deaf one show sound?

How do the blind show a painting?

How does the unsure one choose their expression?

How must I feel if I am numb,

Numb and dumb to the ways of expression?

How must I dance,

Dance and prance to create expression?

What do I feel when I cannot feel?

What do I paint when I go blind?

What do I play when I can’t hear?

What do I express, without the freedom to do so?

The unfinished symphony of my soul,

Will never finish

In a sweet crescendo

Of the ending line of beauty

The audience will not applaud

And no one will bow

Or yell for an encore

Of the unsure for evermore

I will ever not get my curtsy

After a vigorous performance

Telling stories with my twirls and leaps

Enchanting ballets to tell about me

The audience will stay silent

And all will be quiet

None will yell for encore

For the unsure evermore

I will never tell my story

Through colors or poetry

The fear of being seen

The fear of being heard 

So my paintings shall never see the day

My poems never read

None will want an encore

For the unsure evermore

Full circle,

Expression,

Life comes back to death

The traveler returns home

I am blind

I am deaf

I am crippled

I am Expression