Thursday, October 9, 2008

Moon Dance

Looking across the way, I spotted her. Her long flowing dark hair danced around her waist as she moved. The gypsy bangles around her slim wrists glided up and down. Up and down. We stood on the earth barefoot, feet painted in dirt, canvas to the universe. The other women and I swayed our hips to the midnight breeze and with each curve sang the chants we cultivated.

Mother Moon sat there nestled in her home radiating light on our stage, and we danced. We moved. We sang for her. We sang for our ancestors, those brightly shining speckles of dust glowing with her in the night sky. Sparkling brightly they watched as we continued the show they'd left behind. Their moves enchanted through us, spinning wheels of enlightenment. The dirt rose up over our heads and kissed them.

They hold the place for us after the show. When we finally stop dancing and return to the sky, where we watch unabandoned our mark on this world and pass on this glorious moment to the next gleam of gypsies...


Ehab Hady said...

very unlifting and vibrant