Trembling Tambourine..

Bells are ringing. Golden curtains are gently being pulled aside. This is when she enters.

The entrance of an angel with a huge wide wings, seen only with your soul. Her steps were synchronized with the audience clap. With her majestic stand in the center of the stage, she declares her authority to captivate not only the audience, but all her surroundings, everything about to witness the show.

Holding nothing but a tambourine, she stretches her hand to the front & in a silky movement, she brings the tambourine up above her head creating a ripple that spreads across the room as a huge bubble. We are all in that bubble. Watching this perfect pause itself is entertaining.

A quick beating drums starts playing paving the road for the real deal. It stops. And everything stops with it. Time, noise, and heart beats. You can’t be more excited than you are right now for what you are about to witness.

Music has started. After taking a deep breath she closes her eyes.

Signaling our hearts to start beating again,  she starts dancing..

 

She’s letting it all out. She’s telling her story.

Indulging in life’s beauty, she looses herself. Her motion is driven by everything she has ever encountered in life. She’s pushing away troubles, and pulling joy closer. Swirling around herself creating a shield of energy . Her glamour is radiating. I can feel it my bones. I feel her. I understand her. I am her. We all are her. A conjunction of the crowd. We no longer see a dance moves, nor a performance. A mirror it is. We are feeling it. Through  her, we are watching our story, listening to our lyrics, touching our sorrows, and sharing our blessings. We are nothing now but an unveiled souls..

She’s slowing. It stops. Yet the story hasn’t ended. Everything now is still except her right hand. Putting everything into place, she starts shaking the tambourine gently unlocking all chains. The magic of the tambourine in absorbing  the clatter, releasing her leftovers in the air, preparing you for the ending, for our detachment with her, with ourselves.

You are now back to the beginning with a new raw story, the dancer & her trembling tambourine.

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