Friday, September 12, 2008

The Dancer

The Dancer

The dancer moved to the drum beat
His expression full of heat
His neck moved in unison with his feet

His hands told a story
His eyes spoke of things past, present and future
His beauty enough to move you
His feet moved gracefully
His body twisted and turned
Like a piece of leaf in the hot sun

His muscles rolled and jerked
To the pulsating rhythm of the drum beat.

Every so often his cloth slid down his hips
And his graceful fingers pulled it in place
The movement so slight you’d hardly notice.

The drummers drummed in a trance
Their rhythms vibrating up the soles of our feet
The dancer kept on talking with his body
Sweat run down his dark muscular flesh
Only to fly off him when his movements jerked,
Or when he jumped and landed on his feet.

There was silence then a shout when the dance ended
Women with brightly coloured scarves wiped the sweat off the dancer to acknowledge the beauty of the dance

The dancer’s glazed eyes sparkled
His lips turned up in a smile
His spirit came back inside him
The spirits of his forefathers had entered him
During the rhythms of the beautiful dance

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