Member Rara Avis
She gathers music to herself,
dancing among cinematic rainclouds.
Every motion an equal emotion,
spilling off her body.
She dips, swirls, swoons in space,
an empty stage burning with light,
all of which falls upon her --
reflects upon her.
Her clothing accentuates each movement --
gentle sweeps are flowing, breathing,
billowing in rhythmic waves,
kissing the stage floor.
She becomes the music then.
Living a lyricist's dream,
lost in lines of poetry,
an instrument's abandon.
As the song reaches its height,
she traces notes upon the floor,
staffs and rests within her hands,
dipping to a close.
Then she pauses, soft in sway,
as people gather on the stage.
She smiles as they start to dance.
It was her intent all along.