They came from the stars
born in the dance of interstitial space
born of the brilliant stellar light
reflecting and refracting
through the dust of the cosmos.
They came to this world
at the quickening of life
at that timeless moment
when the dust started dancing.
They danced with the dust
in the primordial soup
and they danced with the dust
in the primeval forests
and they danced with us
as we made tools of wood and stone
and they danced to the rhythm
of our pounding hearts
as we stared with wide eyes
and baited breath
at the very first flame
sparked by human hands.
When we spoke our first words
they were there in the wildwood
whispering in the wind
babbling in the brook
rustling in the reeds
singing in the not-quite-silence
dancing in the not-quite-stillness
calling us to come away with them
to a place not yet seen
to a word not yet spoken
to a land not yet forgotten
where the light of the moon
reflected on the smooth face a pond
quickens our pulse
and awakens in us
a fleeting flicker
of the ethereal experience
of brilliant stellar light
reflecting and refracting
through the dust of the cosmos.
For a time
we danced with them
as they danced with us
wandering through the wildwood
crawling through cramped caves
swimming and sailing in the sea
farther and farther from the shore
our eyes wide and our hearts racing
drinking the wine of the world
until we are drunk
on its ecstasy and agony.
But now
we dance without them
a dull, deliberate dance
devoid of daring and dreaming
a dance designed to divide and conquer
covering the soil in a shroud of black tar
raising walls of concrete and steel
blotting out shadow and starlight alike
with the hollow glare
of fluorescent light.
From beneath this tar
from beyond these walls
from above and below
the humming haze of fluorescence
they call to us
drawn to our light
drawn to our heat
drawn to the wet pulsing of our flesh
that we ourselves
have forgotten
called to awaken in us
what we have awakened in them
a moment of learning
a moment of yearning
a moment of daring
a moment of dreaming
a single breathless moment
when the walls fall away
and our pulse quickens
and our voices raise
and our flesh touches flesh
and the dance is reborn
twisting and twirling
through heat of day
and chill of night
bathed in sunlight and starlight
unleashing a brilliant torrent
of carnal passion and cosmic purpose
that washes across the face of the world
in surging waves
of ecstatic creativity.
This is what we are
when we are who we are
and this is what they see in us
that we seldom see in ourselves
and when we pretend
to be anything less
all the colors fade to grey
all the music falls silent
all the dancers turn to stone
and the fair folk
who have walked with us
from the beginning
are shut out by thick walls
left without form
without flesh
without voice.
There they wait for us
just out of earshot
just out of reach
just out of sight
peering in through the window
untouched, unseen, unheard
waiting for the moment
when we come to our senses
and open our doors
and go back outside
and dance.