master of dance

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When a kid with Down’s Syndrome lumbers along

in a coat of clumsy, squinting to find

a level parade, treading mostly alone;

what do you make of this jack-of-no-trade?

 

Revulsion, compassion, empathy, fear,

anger or sadness because strangeness is near

- what do you reckon, or, what do you feel?

 

‘owbout respect for a teacher over there,

a mirror of openness, simpleness, now

enjoying a journey with others and me

as a master of dancing, exuberance,

 

and with a strange little question ‘What’s the real deal?’

like, your last day on earth, well, what will you choose

- one million dollars, a hug, celebration,

or smile?

~ John Lavan

more at real poems

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