Icarus, Henri Matisse.
Typhoon night.
But not a drop of rain.
Typhoon Nangka passed us by
headed for western shores,
trailing in its wake
a hot and humid night –
the kind that gets in your
nose and under your
skin…
awakens sensation.
I step into the night
and the viscous heat
scoops me into
its stronghold, gathers me
in its embrace.
The wind – a warm
caress – tangles my
hair and strokes the
skin on my arms. It’s
intensity evokes a
response in me and
lifeblood
rises:
I am a child again
walking the beach with the
wind in my hair, branded by
sea-salt as its kin.
A deep sense of
freedom arises,
a heightened awareness.
I feel I know myself as
what I am:
a child of the elements,
nature in me and
I in it,
one with the Universe,
made of earth, water, wind and
fire – one with life itself.
Lifeblood moves
in me, awakens the
urge to stir my
limbs, to dance.
Under the dark starless
night I reach a tentative
arm skywards,
watching it unfold – a
graceful curve that
carves through the
stillness of night.
In delightful release the rest
of my body takes
possession of the
age-old song.
My spine extends,
my neck elongating as
my body moves to
rhythms
all its own.
What pleasure to know the
strength
and reach of me,
to let my body
explore itself in space, to
sing the
song its known
since before time was
born.
As I dance
slowly
beneath the
inky blue-black
sky, I am
returned
to myself.
Rooted in my
physicality I know the
visceral sensual being
I am.
Communing with the
Universe through the
lexicon of dance
I traverse oceans of
eternity;
know the
infinite being
I am.
Poised on this shoreline
I know myself to be
a child of creation,
made of earth, water, wind and
fire – spirit and
body combined, one with life itself.
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