passion poetry

Do You Want to Dance?

It’s Just a Jump to the Left — runner-up in The Lark’s poetry competition

glissade-assemble

a small army of ballerinas find for themselves a space tall mirrors to watch themselves grow in late afternoon light stretching and gliding in the also living room into young women of graces

blue rhapsody jazzzzzzz

it’s just a jump to the left and time warps then a step to the right into the rhythm hands-on-hips power surges pelvic lift flying across the floor wrapped in a blue chiffon cloud shear joy captured on our faces

cha cha cha, hustle, somba

When I, my breath, your muscle and the music merge there is nothing else and everything ever was wound around a heartbeat would that this never ends

gypsy meltdown

swing your partner round and round do-si-do and on to the next and the next riding on the bow of a fiddler and the banded arms of a banjo man bow to your partner and allemande five hours melt into a moment time bends

in company

alone, the ecstasy does not rise it is the company that I crave melding into one rhythmic heartbeat moving, breathing, in the one-ness where time bends away and reveals the grace and all-ness of us dancing in the light

Response to poetry challenge to write with a passion

My passion was dance. I had an epic failure as a 6-year-old and missed my recital. The tutu, which I loved, leotard, and clean shoes were all purchased. Mom hand-stitched new pink satin ribbons on the shoes. I had a leading role.

I was too afraid to interrupt my parents’ day and remind them that I needed to go to the recital. I sat with my beautiful tutu in its bag waiting for them to remember. Not until I wasn’t allowed back in class did they figure out what had happened.

I still needed my ballet, so seven-year-old me gathered a small army of girls from school who also wanted to take ballet. I hired a teacher (my next-door neighbor who had 14 years of ballet). I convinced one friend’s father to turn his living room into our ballet studio. One entire wall was mirrored, and they had beautiful hardwood floors and almost no furniture (that is an entirely different story!). The afternoon sun would flood the room with a luscious golden light- we danced.

Sadly, life circumstances, cultural expectations, and health have retired my dancing shoes and beautiful contra dance dresses. This dress always gave me a leading role on the dance floor. But I discovered it is the community moving in unison for a goal I craved, and I haven’t managed to build that in this ‘new’ home of 20 years now.

I am, however, always hopeful and continue to gather small armies of people who want to dance as one company in the light.