The Dance

The Dance 

by

Jeanne Gripp

In the early morning twilight, the dancers frolicked upon the water.

The twisting and twirling soon gave way to sensuous intertwining.

Each passing moment caused more of the Dancers to arise. Never one alone but many together. Each with its own unique way of rising to greet the dawn. Their fingers stretching to touch the treetops. Every move a fluid motion of both love and death.

As the morning light crept upwards, the dance became almost frantic, the dancers trying ever so hard to make the magick last.

And as the sun breached the tree line, the morning mist was burned away from the pond. The Dancers disappeared and Day had begun.