Storm dance.

Winds roar, clouds billow, rains swirls great dances of the ancient womb, through the waterways and vleis, up the wise mountains and dunes, I can hear the rhythm of the steps, hear the silence of the dance, as the storm skips heartily over the mountains, over the sea, to dance another time in another place.

The circle.

Legs straight, on the toes, in ever-quickening circles, held tightly within the circle, gliding effortlessly into the air, landing with powerful grace, picturing the spinning earth, the blue dot in the enormity of life, in the dark vision of space with its bending time of the universe, in the haunting circle of the Dance.

Kinesphere.

Pirouetting in the still moment, discovering that space the ruffles air, the pointed toes, the movement in the circle. Understanding the silence of the surround, the stark tremor of muscles exacting the movement within gravity of a moment in the eternity of the universe, the stars trembling into sight the air ravishing as the body…

Until the end.

The guitar roared away in high pitches, strong rhythms, and bodies gyrated in time to the quick fingers strumming the strings, faces filled with ecstasy, as they all danced and sang towards a new day of peace and humanity, with no greed or occupying armies, just love and music, until the end.

The Song

I tried to write a song last night, I made it quite happy with a strong back-beat, the people did not like it; saying it was to happy for sad times in which it was written, but I sang my song last night, explaining that the world was badly troubled, in need of quick and…

The dancer.

Dancing through life; legs moving effortlessly, skipping, pirouetting, seeming unruffled by societies jibes, How can they be so happy? can’t they comprehend what is going on around them? a great jump, hanging in the air with a smile; Yes I know this cruel world, and peoples absurd foibles, as they destroy our planet and society,…

Dancing in step with the universe.

Notes spread out in the stillness of the night, slipping into memories, cut by the moons growing light, minds race between colour and notes, as the music grows to drown the empty present of inhumanity into a symphony of light, tied into the pulsing light of the cratered moon, and we dance in step with…