I hear the music dancing across the glistening floor
The wood shines of fresh wax and rosin
The smell of tree sap
I step into the middle of the floor and let the music wash over me
Then I hear my cue
My head rises and so does my heart
This is where I belong
In my white practice tutu, and my worn satin pointe shoes
My leotard and pink tights
I begin
I start with some grand jetes
Leaps across the room 
Next comes my series of pirouettes, turning and spinning
My favorite part
I am one with the music
The music is one with me
Now I do three series of atitudes
Part of a combo
Then I do several chaines across the floor
Galloping like a free horse
I am lost in the music
I am lost in my thoughts of going pointe shoe shopping
Hard sheank, wide box, firm arch
Freed,
My favorite maker of the shoes
I can feel the sweat dripping down my neck
I can feel it dripping down my spine where my leotard dosen’t reach
I am out of breath and tired
But that doesn’t bother me
I am in my element
I am like a dove gliding over the trees
The music stops
I stop
Breathing hard I am dropped heavily into reality again
Jolted awake
But I want to go back
I yearn to go back
I want to stay in that focused sense
of Nothingness
A wise person once told me
Ballet is like Origami
You have to be very precise
only then can you make a beautiful thing.