Wednesday, April 3, 2013

30in30: 30 Poems in 30 Days for National Poetry Month. DAY 1.


After Watching Neil Marcus Dance "Water Burns Sun"

Only the cripple can tell you why he dances. Watch closely once, twice: see the way his wrists curve in, fingers pointed toward his palms? Who is to say the small, unusual birds he makes are not beautiful? A thousand folded cranes are art, and so is this.

He redefines fluidity. He is no gentle stream, no tame flow of water from a spout: this man is Kegon-no-taki, hurtling deliriously through space, sending up spray for miles as he dives down to meet himself; he is Urami Falls, hiding and then crashing out to meet you. He can do all this without leaving the floor.

Every twist of his body is a line God painted without lifting the brush, every blemish a hidden psalm, every knot a perfect imperfection. Only the cripple can tell you why he dances: because his every vein contains a river, and Water Burns Sun.

No comments:

Post a Comment