Beauty, Parenting, Work, and Something else...I forget

He is beyond beautiful. I haven't a clue as to who he is, or what his quirks are but he is nonetheless beautiful. Deep ebony skin, an orange shirt that should require sunglasses to be sold with it, green work pants and a black and white scarf around his neck; all completely soaked down with sweat as he lugged his heavy equipment, and backpack up the street with most dazzling smile upon his face. A smile that spoke of determination, pride, and something unnameable. It actually made my heart clench in my chest and the urge to stop the car and just say hello to him was almost overwhelming. Of course most wouldn't agree with my term of beauty, but to me he certainly is. To see another human being toil away and do something that is at best difficult and yet have "that" smile still dancing along their lips making everything around them that much brighter is something to behold. I would never tire of a smile like that directed at me. One could only be so lucky.

Whimsy found him just as interesting. She had that deep thought face, when I turned to look at her. Then just a quickly as it came it went away and a look of surprise danced across it and was complete with peels of laughter and pointing. It seems in my moment of awe someone on the other side passed me and as per my daughter's words, "He was checking you out!" I think I dropped her once too often as a child. She's off and being little miss social butterfly at the moment and doing her level best to pay me back for every ounce of worry I brought upon my mothers with my 'social networking' way back when. She, like I, has a difficult time standing completely still on days like this. The sun is just too perfect, and the wind is just too right, and the laughter is just tooo easily found to sand still and let it pass you by. Why would you want to?

At the moment "Lovestoned" is bouncing off the walls and dancing around my energy lending to the desire to dance until I drop once again. Music, dancing, music, music, and more music runs through my veins at the rate of light speed and I for one am not looking for any type of cure. I must write, I must dance, and I must always have music. Even in my sleep there must be music. Anything less would be unthinkable.

Dance With Me.