Before a backcloth made of silk,
A dancing woman leaps
Upon this awesome stage,
And as this apparition sweeps
Before the lights, a glint of gold
Reflected from her eyes
Upon the tear she held so near
To the make-up man's disguise.
In truth, she screams through silent lips
The words she cannot say
To those who cannot hear her cries,
Though scream as hard she may.
The deep consuming blackness
That exists behind the light
Is beckoning the dancer
In the stillness of the night.
And she asks of those who see her dance
That they might understand
The movement of the twisting feet
And the waving of the hand.
She asks her audience to live
Within what she creates,
And to this end, the body sings
And the dancing mind translates.
The Musical Director brings
The consummating chords
To an audience awaiting this,
The moment it applauds.
And the ballerina's body lies
So silent on the ground.
The dance is past, and in the end,
She never hears a sound.