The party isn't over if we're still dancing.
Sometimes, I feel like it’s almost midnight and I’m Cinderella at the Ball. I’m just not ready for it to end. I’m not ready to put away the beautiful dress and the glorious slippers.
It took me years of back-breaking labor to get here. I swept up the ashes and I fed those ungrateful relatives. I fought with my crummy step-sisters. I have washed the dishes and cleaned up the bird poop. I have sung mindless tunes to countless little sleeping critters. I have wiped snot, tossed trash, and been nice when I didn’t want to be. I have cried when no one was looking, and waded through despair when it seemed no wish would ever come true.
And I kept hope and I kept working.
And now, just when I'm confident I've learned all the steps of the dance, and my dress is beautiful, they tell me the night has waned and I must behave. They tell me my time is almost up. They say the witching hour is near and the Ballroom must be emptied of merriment.
And I say, "Enough!!"
Midnight or not and Prince or no Prince, I plan to keep dancing. I may not be able to set the clock back or decide when I must go home but I can decide to dance the rest of my time.
And dance I shall.
I shall twirl, I shall float, and I shall dip. All the way home, I shall dance the path of the moonbeam and star shine. You may think me mad for should the music stop, I’ll keep on dancing. You see, there is music in my soul and I will still hear the music even when my soul soars to dance with the stars.
And you and I? We shall not go gentle into that good night. Come dance with me. I know you hear it too.
“Those who hear not the music think the dancers mad.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra
This dress is pink satin with an overskirt of pleated tulle. I’m wearing pink, beaded satin slippers and my evening bag is pleated satin. My necklace is of tiny seed pearls. Woven into my hair are cultured pearls. My top is a vintage sequin sweater that was my mother’s. Look on Etsy.