• Praise to the Dance

    by Emily Stewart

    There is something about the feeling
    Of skin moving:
    The concealing and the revealing,
    and the proving.
    Art with the whole self – that cannot be replicated.
    I am intoxicated.

    Tendu, fondu as you inhale and exhale
    You have now become the story.
    Breaking free of this life’s jail
    Let your body feel the glory
    Jeté to the stars as you glide along the barres
    No longer an observer you are

    Dance – the heart speaking without words
    This moment, alone, is ours
    Taking flight like blissful birds
    As our feet chase the glowing hours

    Reaching
    Grasping
    For that thing one cannot touch with the hand,
    But with the tip of the tongue,
    Or the heart,
    Of art.

    posted to Cedar Street Times on November 2, 2012

    Topics: Young Writers' Corner

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