Poetry, Writing, Essay
Like a Peony
Reflections on eras
Like a peony opening to the sun, unfurling its ruffled skirts, allowing the warmth to touch its blood red petals, the flamenco dancer swirls at center stage…
the focus of all the attention, yet oblivious, lost in the dance —
and, yet, wakened only by the dance.
As a soul opens to the infinite, and a lover awakens to the feel of warm breath on her neck and fingers in her hair and along her spine,
the dancer awakens to the sensation of sweat upon her skin, its saltiness on her lip, and to the fluidity of her hips.
But the moment is fleeting…
The peony’s petals begin to fade. And the dancer begins to remember the love of a moment past.
Her bare feet graze the cool marble floor.
She misses a small step.
She can almost smell him, and the scent of their mingled love.
The feel of crimson lace swirling around her legs reminds her of the feel of her lover between her thighs.
And, she aches for him.
The familiar squeeze of her chest, and a stifled sense of loss flooding her limbs brings her back to the moment.
And she dances on…
For it is the dance and all of the tiny, fragile steps and glances, and heartbreaks and heartbursts that matter.
In the end, there is only the dance….
This was the very first poem which I published on medium, in June of 2018. Although I have always written poetry, and I had published a few pieces here and there, I did not have a consistent platform to share my words with readers and with fellow writers until I began writing here.
I am in the midst of compiling a book of poetry, photography and essays, and the daunting task of picking which pieces belong together is looming in the fringes of my consciousness. I’m making an index of all of the poems, stories and essays I’ve written since I made the decision to leave teaching yoga behind and jump “full-tilt” into the creative life a couple of years ago.
This poem, the first I published here, received a total of 87 views. And I have been forever grateful to those 87 people who read that poem.
I used to belong to a writing critique group which met every Friday afternoon for years and years. I wrote a novel and a half during that time. And I learned a lot from the feedback of the group. But, until the last couple of years, my only real audience for my musings has been the students in my yoga classes, workshops and the festivals where I used to teach (and read my stories and poems during ṣavāsana).
It has been interesting to me, during this process of looking back at my poetry (during this time of very consistent writing) to see the journey my words have taken. I’m trying to decide if it is better to keep poetry from certain eras together, or to group them by theme.
I’m curious if any poems in particular have stood out to you, those who (thank you, thank you!) regularly read my writings. The feedback from other writers and from readers has been absolutely invaluable to me over the last couple of years. I can’t tell you how much it reinforces my feeling that something “worked” when I see that someone has highlighted it or commented on it.
Some of you have been reading my words for a while now. And others, well, we maybe only recently found each other. But I do want to say, again, thank you to the wonderful community of writers which has congealed here. I love reading your stories and poems, and seeing your photographs from around the world. And it means so much to me that you are interested in reading my musings and looking at my photographs too.
Erika Burkhalter is a yogi, neurophilosopher, cat-mom, photographer, and lover of travel and nature, spreading her love and amazement for Mother Earth’s glories, one photo, poem, or story at a time. (MS Neuropsychology, MA Yoga Studies).
Thank you for reading. I hope that you enjoyed my musings and photo.
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Poem, story and photo ©Erika Burkhalter. All rights reserved.