and clouds echo in the skies,
teasing distant fires,
a celestial holi
and night’s eye
together
illuminate the stage,
the forest
wears a humble blanket,
a soft stillness,
a prayer in form,
a cold abode
with a warm heart,
a rest from the game,
a place above name,
a wooded island
on a snowy Serengeti
gives audience to an eternal performance
sculpted by the first dancer,
the wind herself –
a servant of grace,
a scholar of movement,
a friend of the air,
the leaf comes to life
on rolling hills of shifting snow,
between the legs of sleeping trees,
in the presence of breath,
in a moment
liberated from time,
in a moment,
the world is gifted
hope’s sweetest dream,
for in the desolation,
proof of beauty is found,
and oceanic roses celebrate
the origin of dance,
her student,
and the maddening elegance
of change
in the hands of life;
the play of a frozen leaf,
her touch,
her laugh,
her peace,
the joy
in history,
unites chaos to create,
the ballet of a dying artist
discovers an undying paradise,
the theatrical spectacle
of a fierce passion,
a contradictory totality,
the magnificent defiance of
a love that is true,
a love that is me,
a love that is you.
-j
