Escaping Gravity

Her arms are bent

With only a slight indication of the need to be straight

As she spins on her toes and lands in second position.

Her hips sway to beat

And she crouches, slouches, and conforms to the rhythm of the music.

She is openly dancing to somebody’s heartbreak

Eager to make it her own.

But they say she's too stiff.

Her head is held high

In great discontent as she walks through the hallways.

She ignores the smells, tastes, sights, and sounds

Of somebody’s children losing their religion

And they say she’s too stuck-up.

Her voice is heaven

As she opens her rosy lips and belts out a melody as sweet as her mama’s perfume.

She takes the sharps, flats, crescendos, decrescendos, andantes, ritardandos, and sixteenth notes

And makes them music.

But they say she’s not good enough.

Her soul is soaring

In the arms of her Savior, she is beautiful.

Goosebumps pop up on her skin in that familiar way that they do

And she can feel the floor moving beneath her feet.

Her saving grace is the warm, tender love of her Abba.

Though they say she’s not worthy.

She is content with Him in this moment of Escaping Gravity.