Can we be steady and strong, yet also vulnerable?
Can we be rigid and rooted while still dreaming in fluidity?
Can we chase our deep longing for freedom despite our fixed responsibilities?
The Dance There stands a pin oak straight and sturdy in our front yard, her trunk mottled by nubs of amputated limbs, lobbed off for daring to venture too close to a neighbor’s roof; here is where the bark grows stronger, each wrinkle a testament to her wisdom and survival yet she is young by forest standards, a loner out here in the suburbs, growing recklessly tall, drunk off sun and sugar, and no family to rein her in. underground, she navigates pipes and wires, nudging concrete foundations, her roots search for the nodes of a companion who is not there sometimes when a storm tumbles in from the west, she finds freedom in the wind. she dips and sways, enchanted by the music of the downdraft. it is a wild dance of imprisoned frenzy, a dance of longing felt by those who believe in a place untamed, somewhere beyond; in another lifetime she is a dervish, alive and raging, fueled by anger and exaltation she bends and shimmies one day her destiny will arrive as sure as that of any other tree in any other yard. she will outgrow her welcome and be dismembered branch by branch, mulched and pulped to line the flowerbeds at city hall; but today she will dance. ©Vixen Lea 2020
The debut of my first video poem!