Dancing In The Night

Icarus, Henri Matisse.

Typhoon night.

 

But not a drop of rain.

 

Typhoon Nangka passed us by

headed for western shores,

trailing in its wake

a hot and humid night –

the kind that gets in your

nose and under your

skin…

 

awakens sensation.

 

I step into the night

and the viscous heat

scoops me into

its stronghold, gathers me

in its embrace.

 

The wind – a warm

caress – tangles my

hair and strokes the

skin on my arms. It’s

intensity evokes a

response in me and

lifeblood

rises:

 

I am a child again

walking the beach with the

wind in my hair, branded by

sea-salt as its kin.

 

A deep sense of

freedom arises,

a heightened awareness.

 

I feel I know myself as

what I am:

 

a child of the elements,

 

nature in me and

I in it,

one with the Universe,

made of earth, water, wind and

fire – one with life itself.

 

Lifeblood moves

in me, awakens the

urge to stir my

limbs, to dance.

 

Under the dark starless

night I reach a tentative

arm skywards,

watching it unfold – a

graceful curve that

carves through the

stillness of night.

 

In delightful release the rest

of my body takes

possession of the

age-old song.

 

My spine extends,

my neck elongating as

my body moves to

rhythms

all its own.

 

What pleasure to know the

strength

and reach of me,

to let my body

explore itself in space, to

sing the

song its known

since before time was

born.

 

As I dance

slowly

beneath the

inky blue-black

sky, I am

returned

to myself.

 

Rooted in my

physicality I know the

visceral sensual being

I am.

 

Communing with the

Universe through the

lexicon of dance

I traverse oceans of

eternity;

know the

infinite being

I am.

 

Poised on this shoreline

I know myself to be

a child of creation,

made of earth, water, wind and

fire – spirit and

body combined, one with life itself.

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