The Dancer Simply Dances
This is no ordinary dancer
the one of which I speak.
Ordinary dancers
like cars moving in and out of parking s p a c e s
cherish measuring sticks
holding them close to their hearts
counting time to see if there is enough.
Blueprints remain footprints
choreographers' dreams remain stilled nightmares
still counting to see if there is enough.
My dancer befriends the ticking of the clock
tickling himself with time enough.
Choreographs
as well as religious men and scientists
point out the infinite possibilities.
With full awareness
the dancer almost randomly - but not quite -
selects his points.
The graceful celebration begins.
Passion and kindness
hatred and regret
demand a command performance in their name
glorifying the rite to feel.
The dancer knows all too well
each of their causes,
he selects his own movement
and is respectfully indebted to his emotions
that willingly serve to animate
the dancers' lines.
Thigh muscles
strong calves
arms with curves divine
slope out the revelation of physical self-discipline
honoring the hours of gravity defied
work-outs reward as ability defines grace
and grace refines ability.
To the dancer freedom is merely self-discipline enjoyed.
The sound of the violin
the sound of the piano
soft sounds and harsh sounds
often invoke memories of an unfinished past...
The dancer
uninspired by memories
uses the silence between the sounds
the rest between the beats
to know the music and father the expression
of such comprehension.
Those of us who wonder
how to
master such expression
how to
muscle graceful interpretation
are indeed trapped in
How's Dilemma.
A dilemma unknown to the dancer who
simply dances.
John Ostlund index