Saturday, August 31, 2013

Breaking Down

Closed with cement the holes between the bricks disappear
Fortifying a wall, closing out intruders and friends.
I bought a sledgehammer and a wrecking ball, but I'm not strong enough
I should've built a ladder just to see what was on the other side.
Maybe it was terror, pain, or internal tumult - all hidden from view
As cement hardens, closing the gaps between bricks in the wall.

Saturday, August 24, 2013

A Portrait of Wassaw

Spanish moss on oak, palm, pine, palmetto my welcome sign
My sea-legs buried in the soft white sand with coquina clams,
Expected silence shattered by croaking toad, chirping cricket, crashing wave,
Warbling painted bunting on the sun-bleached roof keep away the gnats
That gnaw at the sensitive flesh behind my ears, scorch marks
At the base of palm trees a whisper of fires past, fires and resilience
Of ancient roots - a family buried in the sands for centuries with bonnets,
Those sharks scouring the shallowest ocean water by tail-slapping dolphins
With dorsal fins glistening in the moonlit night, starry skies dancing
On wave crests unbroken until her dark heart of a carapace emerges
And her fins collect sand as she hauls he body to the dunes, her primal purpose
Propelling her to dig deeper at her ancient pace, year after year, clutch after clutch
Buried in the sand, primordial sighs and leaving her tracks like a memory in the sand
Before disappearing into the foam-crested waves.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

The Magic of Marinas

Seagulls white as the hulls of sleeping sailboats
Send out their cries joyous in the clear cerulean skies
Moored to the floating docks the Southern Breeze tied
To the Freedom of exploring horizons and shorelines
And barnacles on mooring posts as low tide drags
Away last night's skeletons and reveals today's promise
White sails hoping for wind: paradise for wanderlust-stricken souls.

Monday, August 12, 2013

Unleash My Soul

The desire to live, that’s what dance means in Sanskrit,
What does it mean to you, my tiny dancer, to dance?
Do you forget the little girl who fell in love with dance
Or do you still embrace the blistered feet as milestones?
Do you feel the floor beneath your feet when you plié,
Bending your supple knees and bowing your arms,
Fighting the friction against your bare feet, dirt-caked?
I see your deep breath, stabilizing the supporting leg,
Freeing yourself for the pirouette, surreal extension of the leg.
Your relentless spirit flies as your skirt flutters, arabesque
On pointe flowing effortlessly into a perfect grand changement de pieds,
Or was that a pas de bourrée with some attitude?
I saw a jump, feet fluttering, thighs kissing each other.
I forget what your movements are called, you call me
To join you. Breathless, I take your hand, staggering to plié.
I’ve been waiting to join you all my life, tiny dancer.
Your gift, your ethereal dance is a gift, permanent in my soul,
Nourishing mind, body, and soul as you demand everything
From me. You anchor yourself in my heart as you grand jeté
Across the stage, stag leap ending in arabesque, not attitude.
Supported on the toes of your right foot, left leg extended behind,
Your arms graceful at 10 and 2, no knee bent behind you.
I am relentless, fearless arabesque on flat feet. Afraid of pointe.
But let me dance for you, be the audience and see the love,
Passion, thirst bursting, radiating from my body, bare feet
Fighting frustration and envy, long strides pas de bourrée
Across the floor with no consideration for the barre.
Crossing right foot behing, jumping up, crossing behind.
Relevé, passé, ending in a pirouette. Again, again,
Again, I can do it, never losing my focus, like you.
Lifting myself onto my toes, caressing right calf
With the lifting on my left leg towards me knee,
Who am I spinning for? Who does your heart flutter for?
Tiny dancer, do these propulsive rhythms propel your heart
To flame and leap higher than your grand jetés?
Piqué turns are astounding, difficult, enthralling.
How your left foot rises passé while arms open and close,
Open and close as you lift, lower, lift your lovely leg.
Your développés are perfectly controlled, teach me?
I praise your dance, for it frees you from life’s heaviness;
You are lighter than air, buoyant soul that dancing transformed.
I praise dance for its enchantment of my life, enriching
My dreams of flight with rosin- caked ballet shoes.
Sit, tiny dancer, don’t hold me my hand, let me fly
Across the stage, this room, this life with effortless grace.
Unleash the passion locked away in a music box cage,
Teach my skirt to flutter in pirouettes,
Unleash my desire to live.