amidst a dream

May 22, 2014 at 4:11 pm 10 comments

A mist fills the air
whilst the streets calmly breathe.
In the distance an orb of light glimmers
– amongst shades drawn –
concealing stories of the night.

Above the falling sands of time,
a sound of seduction floats through the haze…
Somewhere a musician strokes the keys
while another
quietly strums his guitar.

Along the drowsy path she walks
alone in her thoughts
– glancing above –
Imagining stories of intrigue
tucked away
from the light of day.

While in the recesses of her weary mind,
she can hear a drifting yet familiar sound…
It draws her
– close –
absorbing the rhythm deep within.

There is a sudden urge to escape, to express
– that –
which is locked away in her heart…
A swell of hunger breaks away
and
surges through her limbs.
• 
Her gait awakens,
there is a bounce and a luster –
As she makes her way along the path…
toward the muted light…
she stops.
• 
In that instant, she sees a hand
reaching through the beams of light 
as if beckoning her to accompany him…

to join him in a dance.

As her cheeks blossom like the petals of a rose
she looks deep within his eyes.
Taking his hand she glides closer
with grace and ease of the dancer within…
A moment of chance…
so… begin the first steps…
• 
As one,
they flow in motion and passion
wrapped in harmonies of song and the swells of their heart.
Their movements are driven by desire never dared –
this is a dance they have rehearsed
but
have never shared.

With a hand on her waist and the other interlocked with hers,
they float about like a feather
– drifting in the wind –
they lift each other… in spirit they fly
high above the shadows and the pulse of the night.

Pure joy is created while time stands still
coexisting in the moment,
alone under a misty glow of light.
All is what it should be…
• 
– But –
• 
It stopped. The music stopped.
The rhythm deep within her soul,
inspiring her,
moving her,
sustaining her
stopped.
She stood still and stared at what was her salvation –
it was cold, inanimate…
a lamp-post.

She took a step back, as reality stabbed her in the chest –
while looking at the ground in shame,
she gracefully curtsied
then
turned and walked away.
• 
Along the drowsy path, she continued
but
there were no more thoughts of passion
or
soaring above rooftops –
– only –
a single tear fell from her eye…
and
along with it,
her
dreams.

or at least for now…

This piece is dedicated to the person who, in his mind, contributed very little to a writer’s collaboration.  Bits and pieces, maybe,  but most importantly, he contributed to a dream from decades past.

Thank You for the Inspiration – Jason.

 

 

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Entry filed under: a moment, a story, beauty, dance, dreams, imagination, nighttime, Personal, poetry, prose, words, writing. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , .

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10 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Paul Handover  |  May 22, 2014 at 4:28 pm

    Wow!

    Reply
  • 2. MichelleMarie  |  May 22, 2014 at 6:21 pm

    So beautiful I was right there with you in my mind! It’s sad when the music stops very. I pray it starts again and you dance yourself to the end of love! I like that song! 😄

    Reply
  • 3. ~*La Velata*~  |  May 22, 2014 at 6:27 pm

    Oh… sadness. 😦 Why does the light always have to fade away… I feel this one, but the hope in me says keep believing. Is that a good thing, I wonder? I guess, that sometimes I think that hope and faith in someone is the only thing that keeps things alive. In spite of what is seen or heard around us. For myself, it’s all that I can claim as a treasure sometimes, is blind faith and the holding on to a hope that maybe, just maybe, things don’t have to fade away. I guess that’s the long version of, I don’t want to wake to feel a lamppost dancing with me. I want to believe.

    Reply
    • 4. words4jp  |  May 22, 2014 at 6:32 pm

      What is interesting about this piece is when I was a little girl, I spent many hours in my room alone. If I wasn’t at school or in a dance studio, I was in my room – hiding from an abusive drunk father. Anywho, I had a 4 post canopy bed – and the two posts at the ‘foot end’ were my dance partners. I had many dance partners – you could call them imaginary friends, crushes,…. And I love those two posts because I could dance with them. It’s funny, after my dance career, I have never found a person to dance with. My ex husband or my two ex boyfriends after him – never would want to dance with me.

      Reply
  • 5. Dom DiFrancesco  |  May 22, 2014 at 7:11 pm

    Wow, this is awesome, very well done. 🙂

    Reply
  • 6. Teela Hart  |  May 22, 2014 at 7:17 pm

    I love this, it reminds me of a Stevie Nicks song “Gypsy”.

    Reply
  • 7. Catnip  |  May 22, 2014 at 7:29 pm

    Wow. great works. and who is this Jason….tell tell…

    Reply
  • 8. Jonathan Caswell  |  May 23, 2014 at 12:26 am

    Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
    ORT-ORT-ORT….FOR JASON AND HOW MUCH HE INSPIRES!!!!

    Reply
  • 9. thehappyhugger  |  May 23, 2014 at 10:51 am

    Great writing! wow!

    Reply
    • 10. words4jp  |  May 23, 2014 at 1:35 pm

      thank you – it was quite a stretch – but fun.

      Reply

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