The Music Grabbed me and I danced by Damayanti Devi |
I step into a circle
Into the space I have chosen
And I am still
Contained
Pregnant
and waiting.
Slowly, Imperceptibly
I begin to breathe
Molecules and particles
The life force of Creation
Deeply now, I begin to inhale
The frisson of expectation
The spaces in between
Information is transferred
At an alarming speed
The beast is unleashed
And two strands begin to curl
And unfurl, and entwine
As awareness rushes through me
The music,
coursing through my veins.
The stage is set, the curtains open
The sea bursts its banks
And delivers me, up,
Naked in my vulnerability
Quivering in my shell
Birthing me to the play
and the illusion.
The dance has begun
I am the dance and dancer
The Conductor and the orchestra
But I am asleep
As I sway
Deep below, somewhere
far, far away
the primordial drum beat
rolls the thud thud of potential
My limbs begin to twitch
of their own accord
Between my brows
the serpent has risen
A hit of pure joy
And as I awaken
lethargically, so painfully
my arms rise up
Gently cradling the world,
Then yearning, then taut
then stretching up to encompass the heavens
over reaching themselves,
The melting wax, the fall
The reflection in the lake
as I crash through the icy
mirage and find myself at Styx's door
I swoop, I stumble
down dark, dank lanes
and dead ends
I trip, I drag my feet
Through swamps and damp twigs
I lose myself in the labyrinth
and long for the long sleep
I sink in the smooth mud
Gestation
Once again, high above
far, far away
I hear the Seraphim singing to the drummer
about the lover who asked the gaoler
to seek the midwife
to cut the cords of separateness
and the unlearn the torment
of the 'other'
The Seraphim trills a psalm of paradise lost and found
The lover an unrequited lamentation of love lost and regained
The gaoler a dirge of sorrow, of Narccisus drowned
In a lake of wistfulness and nostalgia
and the Midwise chants the mantra of birthright
of the selflessness of self rediscovered
Together they dance
The song of creation
stomping the fields and scattering the seeds
driving the kernels of experience
lived
home with their heels
Far, far below
Deep in the bowels of the earth
beneath the furrows
The seeds take root
There is a rumble, an unfurling grumble
As I begin to stir
Again
After a century of slumber
The sprouting seed shoots up and grows
It is determined to soar with what it now knows
Manifestation is accelerated, to show its light
Not hide in the darkness as before, any more
Such freedom, such bliss
Stripped of pretense in flight
Mine is the celebration of my essence
Laid bare,
Do not try to draw me in with studied pirouettes and quadrilles
Do not strangle my neck with your arm, crook'd in fear
I will join the dialogue of your steps willingly
When I have learnt to lovingly embrace myself
Let me be free to fly, to swoop, to twirl, to crouch, to skip, to jump, to spin and flail my arms,, ascending to the spheres in spirals of ecstasy where I shall meet you.
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