Emotions were intense –
and asking for expression –
in the week I began this pot.
As I picked up my pencil,
sorrow still swirled
in the place between my breasts.
No wonder at all
that I fell back on dance…
appealed to the passion of my youthful years
to counteract the heavy ache
of body and mind.
My soul complied…
The child leapt
from the passionate and driven man
that was her father…
leapt into practical, dependable connection
with her mother.
The mother’s love was based on faith.
Her spiritual guidance would be lasting.
Her dancer daughter –
born of opposites –
would not forget the familial dance.
The circular and grounding source
must be repeatedly returned to:
for nourishment…
for rest…
for stabilizing.
And equally,
repulsion and rebounding.
I know this now as I renew the bond
with the women of our family…
renewing also the creative drive.
Even as the body ages and subsides,
the spiritual fire lives on.
So does the dance…
A Dance of Balance 