Balançoire

is there no end to this ? 

Another wind blowing and is there no end to this ?

It is picking up branches – uprooting whole trees – leaving them piled up in drifts in bus shelters with twigs and crisp packets and other debris – the skin of the city is shredded and sloughed – I was once on a beach in a garment of purple and half an hour later was headed for Crete

Not that I knew that – you know you have days when its sunny and seems like it’s all going well and you’re planning a picnic and what better place than the beach ?

We had cattle back then and they bathed in the shallows like so many manatees, gentle and warm. It is good being young and these days are so few so that each day is a treat to be cherished – sucked dry like a fruit to the husk

We adorned them with flowers and chains made with daisies while the herd lay asleep in the heat of the day

Among them a white bull I’d not seen before but all was so peaceful, and me being Princess, I climbed on its back to fix garlands – and show off I suppose that I wasn’t afraid and I wasn’t. The bull was so quiet that I danced on its back twirling pirouettes, I was in love

With myself and the beach and the bull and the world – I did somersaults, tap dance. Egyptian and Greek – I did ballet before it was even invented – Balançoire was the dance that I did on the beach

So engrossed in my art that it seemed only right when the bull lumbered down to the shore as I balanced on one leg – my arms in an arc

To symbolise All Things – the Whole of Creation

… at that moment – perfection – the Whole World in Balance – a singular
point.

but the bull picked up speed and plunged into the tide …to the cries of my sisters, I slipped … lost my footing and only by grabbing its horns or I’d fallen and drowned in the ocean and there it is ! … that’s what happened … I’m at sea on a runaway bull… riding billows we were as the cries of the seagulls were fading above us – fish biting my toes … they were soon left behind as it swam and it swam away over the waves

It was fun while it lasted – I have to admit it and that doesn’t happen so often these days

On the beach the bull became human – or sort of – it had been a long day and I didn’t much care

I am not a complainer – I know I’m a chattel – I may dream of love but I know that my role was be traded and hawked like a heifer to someone my father was wanting as ally so this wasn’t the worst thing but still

Sometimes I dream that I’m decked out in flowers – I’d stop time if I could to the beach among cattle, when I danced Balançoire

the days stretching before us
like sand

Anita Greg 21/09/2018

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