WYTCHCROFT'S BLOG

wytchcroft

River Dance
Thursday, August 16, 2007

(see firefly episode 'safe')

She was the dark child dancing into light, She was
the dancing River.

The sun touched her through the clouds. The trees bent and swayed in imitation of her.
Dancing.
She drew a crowd.
They watched her dancing.
Colour leaping from her.
She danced with them – reaching her free hands and bare feet for the feel of the ground and the delight of the ribbons ... weaving... ribbons around the maypole.

She was the thing the people moved toward. Moved through, away from – and beyond.

Everybody danced with River.

She could see the smiles, hear the laughter, song and music.
She knew the secret name of their velocities. She could call the angles and the ratios. All language was hers. It flowed within her. Calling out in a thousand different voices.
Too much for any one tongue to tell.
So she was silent.
Dancing.
Watching.
Weaving through the ribbons and reeling between
bodies near collision, objects in space
weaving and reeling– but for a moment – smiling
Safe
Upon the River.





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