First there was nothing. <br />then there were lights. <br /> <br />Blinding stagelights leftwing <br />rightwing sprout wings wink, for <br />the camera it's smiling for you, smile <br />lights camera action. cut. Cut. <br /> <br />First, she is a ghost, drifting aimlessly <br />in the background, with quiet eyes <br />and expression, watching the audience <br />with eyes that look but never quite See. <br /> <br />Then, she is a butterfly, emerging <br />slowly from the cocoon that the <br />audience has created for her, sprouting <br />Baby wings that flutterby flickeringly. <br /> <br />Today, she will be a little girl, out <br />of step, and tuned in completely to a <br />world of bliss bubbles all in the perfect circle <br />of her swirling tutu, undisturbed. <br /> <br />Tonight, she is hiding enigma in her hair, <br />sly smile a prelude to the fading <br />of magic wings; sidestepping slowly <br />towards Upward Elegance. <br /> <br />Last scene of all, she is a mere dancer, <br />no longer entwined in spotlight nor <br />starlight, her last few weary steps <br />being saved for something bigger and more <br />terrifying, that will slip by, ever <br />so suddenly, so quietly, <br />that the audience would <br />never quite <br />notice.<br /><br />Ballerina With Fins<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ballerina/
