Saturday, October 15, 2016

Still Miss It

Still miss it. 
Still catch myself 
Sitting in positions used
During pre-class warm up. 
When I walk,
My feet still turn out. 
Still remember the steps,
But not always their names. 
Without shoes,
I can still stand en pointe. 
To me, theater 
Will always be theatre. 
There is nothing in the world 
That compares to being a dancer. 
With bloodied toes and aching muscles
And backstage costume changes,
A dancer will always find their way 
To the music, to the stage lights,
To the applause. 
A dancer is living and breathing artwork. 
A dancer can always 
Spot another dancer 
From the way we walk
To the way we hold ourselves. 
For me, my journey began
As I watched Gelsey Kirkland and
Mikhail Baryshnikov perform 
"The Nutcracker " on PBS
During the holiday season 
So many years ago 
When I was just a wee one 
At five years old. 
My dreams were filled with 
My becoming Gelsey Kirkland. 
When I donned my first 
Pair of ballet shoes,
They became not only a part of me,
But also an extension of myself. 
The dance began to
Coarse through my veins. 
My mother told me on several occasions 
That dancing will forever 
Be in my blood. 
She's been right all along and 
I still miss it. 

©Cyndi Mackay 2016

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