Friday, March 21, 2008

Aerial Dance

Just the air, a cable and you
OK, the crane above too
How odd being 40 metres high
Mutes sounds into a wistful sigh

You wrap the line
Holding you inclined
Around one slippered feet
A ballerina at 130 feet

The air is different so far from the traffic
That moves at remote control speed
Little spots of colours that seem less graphic
than the clouds that bid you heed
The sense of being cradled
In God's gentle breath
Or being pillowed and saddled
Both protected and on the edge

It's cooler up here and each breeze defined
Warm sun beating upon your shoulders
Back and face
Legs dangling to the distant ground below

The harness digs into your crotch
Around your thighs
Cinches your waist
You straighten your back 
To level yourself
In line with the cable 

One line
Straight as an arrow
Yet freer than the immovable anchor of the ground

Up here you are all alone
Peaceful solitude
Your one true home
Communion of the highest magnitude
You can almost hear his personal call
To resist the tempting fall

Deep breaths
Simple sanity
Freedom a commodity
Abound up there in the air
So rare a find below

And then the music blares

And you throw your body forward
Wrap the cable to one side
And fly into the dance
Your only chance

At being an angel in the sky

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