To dance...

If you look closely, when I dance, you can see every part of me.

My best friend said once, "you have very few secrets...but many layers."

When I dance, they are there: you can see them: every memory, every feeling, every nuance, unfolding one by one, til I am stripped bare.

It is not a choice. But, rather, the only time I feel fully alive and all of me...on purpose.

There are moments when we wake or step outside...hear the wind...the trees...smell the air or baking bread....or taste the freshest apple...deep red wine...honey...another's lips....moment's when life rushes into you. And for an instant, a breath...a day if you are so lucky...we are like gods. Full of life and ecstasy and wonder.

But dancing....dancing is the only time I come close to that...on purpose. On my own. Even that is a step away...is lacking something of the fire....more....as though I would rush the life right out of me: sing it, scream it, bathe in it and...pour it into the world. It is the exhale...

But it is what I do.

If I could have anything else....I would fly. Short of flying...I must dance.


"Jongleur"

We sing. Speak with our limbs,
Our voices echoing our hands
And the stories pour forth
To drench the world in
Fire; in the melody of
thoughts and hearts
Of hurts and hopes
(Long stifled, smothered, suffocated
Beneath
the Numbness; Muteness of
'Every. Day. Life.')
Aching to be set free
To be made flesh...
Now
Speak the speech, I pray you...
Trippingly, as it were
Upon these boards
And I will show you
- in silent singing-
What a heart is truly made of
And all the world's great longing.


* (When I have a company...this will be our mission statement...or something close to it. Hmh-hmh).