Untitled

For the dancer

You sang your song to me, long ago,
Ula Kai Anahita,
daughter of the sea,
goddess fierce and kind.
You say I hated you:
but I tell you, it was fear you saw,
fear and nothing else.
I feared your strength,
your courage,
your compassion, even.
And when I saw you unfold your silver arms
and fly into the storm
and call it dancing,
I think I almost wept.
Perhaps it was that alone that frightened me,
or perhaps it was your eyes,
grey against the storm and the rock, and fiercer than the sea.
But that was not when I loved you first,
Vivien Nawfar,
daughter of the sea,
lily of the raging waters.
I loved you when your tiny, fragile arms
kept your sister from falling,
when you screamed all day and night for your father to return,
but in your pain, still you saw my tears in the rain,
and you did not hesitate to reach out
and wipe them away.

By TC