To become a dancer

So, you remember how in my last post I had decided to ditch my inner multi-tasking-monster for a calmer, less jam-packed weekend? Yes, well that didn’t happen. In fact, quite the opposite happened and I’ve been running around like a headless chicken since the time I finished writing the post on Friday afternoon. I’m actually happy to be back at work now so I can take a real break from my weekend “break”. But, such is life. I suppose I’m just happier when I’m busy.

I won’t get into all the things I did on the weekend but somewhere between dance classes, dinner with family and spending time with D, I found an old diary of mine. I was quite a fervent diarist as a child and kept a diary right up into my late teens. The diary I found was the last one I had written in. I flicked through the pages, cup of tea in hand, and reminisced about my life back then.

Isn’t it funny how years later I’m still keeping diary only now it’s in digital (blog) form?

Folded and neatly tucked in between two of the pages of the diary I found a print out of a poem I used to LOVE. I’m not sure where I got it from but I remember reading and re-reading this poem until I memorised it. Here it is, I hope you enjoy it too.

To become a dancer by Lucile Adler

To become a dancer so late
To be determined so late to become
A dancer is to become part
Of the dream of the humble heart
Determined to dance to the beat
Of this one dawn becoming day
Caught by a great blush and throb
Of laughter at such a becoming
Such a desire to become a dancer
In the sense of one moving, clumsy
With effort, yet effortlessly becoming

The limbs of the old tree bent
Out of shape and dancing, leaf-bare
On a windless day before snow,
Becoming the bent shape of itself ­
That sort of dancing, of sensing
With alert heart the snow-blurred
Motion or natural pause of tree
And of woman too, weary
And trembling with effort near
The aspen fence or morning barre
Stretching to become what she is
Or may be, laughing down at legs
Wrapped in woolly snow; grim,
Laughing and determined beyond pain
So late to translate at last
Life into life, the shared beat
Of laughter and grief into motion
Part of the dream-game I dare you
Accepted

As the reddening curtain rises
The grand jeté of dawn
And silent-as-snow applause rise
To celebrate one so modest and arrogant
Who dares so late, laughing,
To become a great dancer,
That is to say
To become, in a sense, one with the dawn
Beginning

EXT_to become a dancer_2013Source

7 thoughts on “To become a dancer

  1. Gorgeous poem! Beautiful.
    Oh and love love love the pictures of James Dean in ballet class! I saw these ones before, so awesome to know he took ballet class once 😉

      1. Haha yes indeed!! A very big football legend from The Netherlands took ballet too, to enhance his football skills. Johan Cruijff, maybe you’ve heard of him?
        Have you also seen the ballet pictures of Brigitte Bardot? She’s awesome..

      2. Yes, the pictures of BB and also of Audrey Hepburn doing ballet are great. I am not much of a football connoisseur so I don’t know Johan Cruijff but I think the moral of the story is that ballet is useful for everyone, in all walks of life 🙂

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