still from Wim Wender’s film, PINA!

Balancing branches

on his shoulders,

a man stacking

chairs, three

stories high.

Slide on water, swim

for your life.

Leap for joy, generosity.

Sacrifice.

Why this

yearning?

I wanted

to give her

lightness.

I forgot I was shy.

My fragility

was my strength.

She told me to dance

for love.

He wears demon ears,

sits in the last seat.

She stomps

the pillow.

They thrust hips,

buttocks bulge

through shiny dresses.

Little dog nips his nimble

tapping heels.

Ah to be old.

Ah to be young.

Words can only

evoke. That’s where dance

comes in.

At the edge of a cliff.

Very carefully, two floors up…

from the icy windowsill,

the Traveler enters.

Dance, dance, or

else we are lost.

Under the flyway

on top of the glacier

restrained by a rope

showered with dirt.

Where does this yearning

come from?

O woman in the red

billowy dress,

dance for me.

Dance, dance, or

else we are lost.

In the forest,

at the bottom

of the lake

in the mine shaft

hundreds of feet

below

the ground.

Tap chest

three times, nod

your head.

Give in

to gravity,

resist

hold back. Unwrap

embrace

spring up

again.

Dance, dance, or

else we are lost.

January 14, 2012-Louise Steinman

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