Dance Anyone?

When I was a little girl, my Mom made me this wonderful cape-like poncho. It was this great shade of claret on one side and a soft lavender threaded with bits of blue and shards of red on the other.

I remember most wearing this home on summer nights. The wind lifting it gently to swirl around my hips. The sun just dipping past the horizon. Those would be lavender days. Blossom scented nights that you could taste and almost touch the pure sweetness of. Languid and wonderful, dreamy walks that seemed to take you out of time and somehow took so much longer to get home than they normally would.

Then there were the nights when it would storm. I would almost always shift the colors around, to see the lightning break across that brilliant claret color, and then to fold back into darkness. The color was so rich and deep that without the light, I was virtually a part of the night. It was like being magic. The thrill of the electricity and the sounds of thunder breaking open the sky - and me there dancing in the rain, a part of the magic of it all. Twirling and shifting from light to shadow. There and then not.

I have often wondered where and when I laid my magic cape aside. Still, there are times, when the moon calls me and I strive to follow. I crave to wander down the silent streets and breathe the blossom air, full of the sweet goodness. And I sometimes I feel myself waiting, patiently (or not)for the storm to rise and set me free to dance in its playful patterns of light. Perhaps I no longer have my cape, but the magic dwells within and it calls to that little girl who knew the intricate dance so well.

Perhaps, I will dance with lightning tonight - to do that, would be
ever so en - light - ning. Dance anyone?