Rustling what remains of their skirts, veils,
Juniper and pinion/sycamore show me how
to finish my dance.
Raising my arms, the wind molds me
as it does the trees,
You are dancing for us, not them.
Follow us, this way.
If you travel down this path,
we’ll show you how you appear to others,
what you really are,
Come back tomorrow, once you’ve passed
through (the mirror of) Tonight,
shimmering twilight lifting the veil
for you to pass,
a little of its magic coming to rest upon
You can never return home,
but you will find it,
on the other side.
I wrote this after my trip to Prescott, Arizona in March 2002. I had been asked by Kelly Miller-Lopez of the musical group Woodland to dance at the first Faerieworlds Festival. I don’t know if there is any archive footage of the performance, but I will always remember every detail in my heart. I can see Thumb Butte where I finished my choreography the day of the performance. I can hear the laughter of the children of all ages. I can feel the smooth stage under my bare feet. I can taste the salt as I perspired in the heat of the day & stage lights at night, trying hard to convey Grace. I smell the damp earth when I returned to Thumb Butte, to give thanks for the Dance. Another journey, another time, all part of the path.