The Second Line

The Second Line

In New Orleans, where the rhythms entwine,

Awakens a spirit in the dance divine.

With brass bands blaring, a jubilant sound,

The second line forms, a celebration profound.

In the heart of Treme, where it all began,

From fraternal roots, a legacy ran.

Honoring life, with each step so grand,

In joyous procession, for community's band.

The first line leads with brass and pride,

The second line joins the jubilant ride.

Handkerchiefs wave, parasols twirl high,

Dancers buck-jump beneath the Southern sky.

Strutting and swaying, the dancers unite,

Second line dances, a colorful sight.

From Sundays in French Quarter, passion ignites,

A ritual of joy, celebration of life's delights.

African roots, planted long ago,

In mutual aid, this custom did grow.

From jazz funerals to wedding day show,

A celebration of life, in harmonious flow.

Comfortable shoes and water for all,

Join the procession, heed the joyous call.

Dance your own style, let your spirit soar,

In this living art form, we all adore.

From past to present, culture preserved,

A community's strength, proudly observed.

The Second Line, New Orleans' pride for sure,

Where music and memory forever endure.

In New Orleans' heartbeat, let spirits unwind,

As we dance through the streets, worries left behind.

For in every movement, pure joy we find,

The second line calls us, forever to shine.