Slow Dance
This is a poem written by a teenager with cancer.
She wants to see how many people get her poem.
It is quite the poem Please pass it on.

SLOW DANCE

Have you ever
watched
kids
On a merry-go-round?

Or listened to
the rain
Slapping on the ground?

Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun into the
fading
night?

You better slow down.

Don't
dance so
fast.

Time is short.

The music
won't
last.

Do you run through each day
On the fly?

When you ask How are you?
Do you hear
the
reply?

When the day is done
Do you lie
in your
bed



With the next hundred chores
Running through
your head?

You'd better
slow down

Don't dance so
fast.
Time is
short.
The music won't
last.

Ever told your
child,
We'll do it
tomorrow?

And in your
haste,
Not see his sorrow?

Ever lost
touch,
Let a good
friendship die

Cause you
never had time
To call
and say,'Hi'

You'd better slow down.
Don't dance
so fast.



Time
is short.
The music won't
last..

When you run
so fast to get somewhere
You
miss half the fun of getting
there.

When you worry and hurry
through your day,

It is like an unopened
gift....
Thrown
away.

Life is not a
race.
Do take it
slower

Hear the
music
Before the song is
over.



------------
--------

I bow down to your spirit
and your poetry that is clear truth.

You have to slow down.
You repeat that theme.

It is one of the main things that they are teaching me
at the Continuum Movement.
It helps a lot too, to actually practice moving, walking, dancing, eating; in ultra-ultra slow motion. Try it, you'll like it.

But in everyday life, that is where you apply it: SLOW DOWN. Your actions, your thoughts, the while kit and kaboodle, just slow down.

I'm in business. Got to be practical. Well guess what? Slowing down makes it all get done much, much faster.

Now this poet has got me clicking at my keyboard, and I am amazed at the grace and the truthfulness and the courage of this poem; You are young; most of us on this site are old. You teach us a lesson about seeing with the heart, and there is an outpouring of love that you brought about, by touching from human to human over the generations and despite the pain.
In our "condition" we get to see the best and the worst; that poem and its author are shining examples of the very best that is so often hidden; the best of the human heart.

I am sorry that I don't know the name of the author. I received it by forward email which said:
This poem was written by a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital.

Imad

This was sent to me by a member of the gone now Als site. I keep it in front of me at the computer every day.








She let go.
Without a thought or a word, she let go.
She let go of the fear.
She let go of the judgments.
She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.
She let go of the committee of indecision within her.
She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons.
Wholly and completely,
Without hesitation or worry,
She just let go
she didn’t ask anyone for advice
She didn’t read a book on how to let go.
She didn’t search the scriptures.
She just let go.
She let go of all of the memories that held her back.
She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.
She let go
Of the planning
And all of the calculations
About how to do it just right.
She didn’t promise to let go.
She didn’t journal about it.
She didn’t write the projected date in her Day-Timer.
She made no public announcement and
Put no ad in the paper.
She didn’t check the weather report
Or read her daily horoscope.
She just let go.
She didn’t analyze whether she should let go. She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter. She didn’t do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment. She didn’t call the prayer line. She didn’t utter one word. She just let go.
No one was around when it happened. There was no applause or congratulations. No one thanked her or praised her. No one noticed a thing. Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.
There was no effort. There was no struggle. It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad. It was what it was, and it is just that.
In the space of letting go, she let it all be. A small smile came over her face. A light breeze blew through her. And the sun and the moon shone forevermore…”
In the last analysis, we see only what we are ready to see, what we have been taught to see. We eliminate and ignore everything that is not a part of our prejudices.

I love the poem and wanted to share with some of my friends, but thought I would check it out first.

It was actually written by a child psychologist, David L. Weatherford, and can be found on his personal web site.

http://www.davidlweatherford.com

I found the music annoying, so I just turned off my speakers.

Hmmm. A child psychologist pretending to be a sick teenage girl?? Not a good sign.

Or no, I guess other people after him added on the part about the girl.
Could have fooled me. If something is on the internet, it has to be true, right?
Anyway, I still like the poem, but the aspect of it coming to us old folks from a teenager was an important part of the magic.