Breezy Feathered Glow

Soft colors wake the room, a feathered breeze in motion

Beads click in time with the wind, a pulse across the ocean

She moves like a story drawn in light and thread

Long dark hair tracing shadows on her shoulder blade

Fringes sway, a thousand little bells awake

Bracelets hum in chorus with every breath she takes

Color runs in ribbons, red and blue and white

Dancing with the painting, turning blue into night

Her steps sketch rivers on a canvas of air

A necklace catches daylight, a quiet, steady flare

Move with the quiet thunder in her spine

Let the beads and ribbons spin the line

In every turn, the room remembers her

She is the rhythm, she is the spur

Arms stretch wide, a horizon carved in skin

The dress tells a map of stories traveling within

Feather in the hair, a promise of the sky

She dances past the frame where colors lie

The backdrop sighs in soft, pale blues

Abstract clouds curling as she finds her fuse

Her eyes are listening to the distant drum

Her heartbeat clicking like a pulse of some ancient sun

Move with the quiet thunder in her spine

Let the beads and ribbons spin the line

In every turn, the room remembers her

She is the rhythm, she is the spur

A whisper of wind through woven light

She glides between shadows and glow of bright

The fringe becomes a brush of living tone

Painting the space she calls her own

Move with the quiet thunder in her spine

Let the beads and ribbons spin the line

In every turn, the room remembers her

She is the rhythm, she is the spur

And when the color sighs back to day [echoed (hey, ya, ya, weh, weh, ya, ya, hey, weh)]

She holds the moment, then lets it stay [echoed (hey, ya, ya, weh, weh, ya, ya, hey, weh)]