Degas' Ballet Bloom

In twilight's hush, where shadows play, Dancers twirl, their forms in array, Like flowers that bloom in secret night, Their beauty is a wondrous sight. With every step, a story's spun, Of dreams and passion, forever young, Their tutus shimmer, soft as dew, As they dance, their spirits anew. In this fleeting moment, we are free, To lose ourselves in their ecstasy, To find our own hearts' deepest fire, And let our spirits soar, like their desire. Like petals unfolding, they reveal, The beauty hidden, we all conceal, In their movement, we find our own, A reflection of our soul's unknown.