"The Greek..."

He can dance...the Greek can...
Greek Dance
Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George BS,RN
August 1st, 2006

The April rain danced on pavement, cobble stone street, lazy black horse waiting
The hour of noon and quiet as they eat lunch, plan to work, and live this simple life
The olive branch extends to the Aegean sea, and the rosy faced children born with
Jet black hair play jump rope, their laughter tinkles like broken glass, but they are
Neat, clean, and loved day and night, somewhere so far from here, I cannot speak
Greek, but will enjoy what seeps in, the food spicy and the music rocks my cracked
Spirit back to sleep, there is continuity far from here, and the sunrise
Makes me wake up to another morbid day, where death travels in and out
Body wracked, as if beaten with the oars of a rowboat, that floats endlessly
Listlessly out to sea, a gull reminds me I am powerless to survive this fate
Don't be a friend, or follow my shallow foot steps down the stairs, where I walk with
Purpose, following shadows of light cutting into the night's fall, darkness is still too
Deep for me to accept, it makes my skin crawl, and the lone spider props his spiked
Legs upon me, hoping that I do not turn again, so I sit instead, perched like an owl
Waiting, watching, and shutting off the floodgates of thought that destroy me
The memory of you festers again, who were you anyhow, an embryo let go
That young woman is to be married on Sunday, they drape her
Lace train up higher, and cover her in rose scented oil, her dark black
Eyes glow with expectation, for the dream remains her reality, and
Surely her fiance is nervous, prepared to please her for years to come
The population lives a life where family, culture, and strong religion are eagerly
Planted, in rows like summer corn, and there is no diversity expected but for the
Changeless sky that is calm, a rare storm threatens needed rain, and it falls down
In celebration, they accept me visiting their ancient town, walking calmly with my
Writing book and pen, sitting on old driftwood upon the white sand at the shoreline
A red bicycle is my ride (if I so want), and my sheets are clean and white when I sleep...

He may seek me, my letter handwritten awaits his eyes, to understand why I have
Crossed continents, bent the final vow like a bow and arrow, shot the mark so far away
But each day that passes, I appreciate the dark haired sea men who load the ships
Their strong shoulders burnished brown in the powerful sun, their scent of sweat so
Clean and natural, and the brilliant red flower pots that adorn this inn I stay at, ease
Me, remove the memory of living that drove me here, begin and end a book of life
The air is fresh, the smell of salt at sea so vivid, the dark blue sky grows
Common, we sleep early and rise earlier still, there are rocky mountains
Buried in solid ground miles in the distance, if I stay perhaps my legs can
Will me to climb them, feel the ancient rock beneath my jeans on my skin
Years of exhaustion took me here, where boredom is routine, where no chaos can
Swerve before me like a car out of control, crashing down a canyon in California
Crashed, no life remains, the bodies carried by helicopter off the cliff, and the
Rage of our culture bears warning, that even in death we live on to complain
Instead this garland of lilac lays around my neck lightly fragrant, and the summer
Words are crisp, like fresh salad sprinkled with apple cider vinegar, healthy I mend
And this dark prince who enters my chamber touching my arm in sleep
Is a gift unwrapped, like fine chocolate he enters my mouth, and his taste
Is beyond the kiss of love that generates a life and marriage, instead I
Whisper in his ear "you can go now" and he stays holding me closer still
In the morning light a shadow follows his form, he dresses slowly staring deeply into my
Blue eyes, but I turn away, this stranger cannot be memorized, for my bank is full to
The brim of men who loved me, I left one by one, to run like the child I am and will be
To the garden gate, flinging it aside with wild abandon, chasing cherry tree visions like
Clockwork, skipping and then laughing, rolling in fall leaves, and then demanding that
Spring come, so I might walk barefoot alone, down to the water's edge, wet my feet...

We dance the Greek dance, he is strong and lifts me
Naked in the moonlight to enter this warm place where
Stars burn with purpose, I am here, just to sleep...
Good night