wordweaving
Joined: 04 Jul 2004
Posts: 5
Location: Greenville, SC
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Butterfly Dance
The last of the summer sun
Sets your hair ablaze
A reminder of
Mounting intensity born
Of tenderness and passion.
Hypnotic words whispered
Hotly in my ear.
Memories of lace and silicone
Transmuted under a green canopy
Into a time out of time
And a space out of space.
One moment flows fluidly
Into another in ancient rhythm
Of exploration of position and possibility.
You are a paradoxical blend
of male and female energy
The simple and the complex,
We touch the deepest of levels.
Despite the horrors of the past
And the recurrent struggle
To keep memory from movement,
Risking, revealing, giving all that there is
Instances of grace and of beauty,
Allowing glimpses of the soul.
A sacred space
Where the horned god worships
And the goddess pays homage.
Where your breath,
Your touch, your tears,
Your passion,
Are elements made holy
In the ancient dance of transformation.
And in that sacred space
I loved with a tenderness and a passion
That was almost frightening,
Echoed only by the beauty and tragedy
Of watching butterflies dance.
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WordWeaver
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