Dancing with Swords

Sword dancers, photo by Holly Baumgarten

It seemed like water was everywhere-
     the shimmer of scarves,
     the shimmy of womanly bellies, muscular and yet soft.
Skin billowing wave-like to the beats.
The dancer carried water upon her head,
     blessing us, blessing us, healing our ills,
     casting water upon the Earth for its deep magick.
The room grew quiet, and a dark-haired dancer emerged,
     black skirts and gold, black leather, pearls in her hair,
     and-  what’s that?
     around her waist and shoulder, a snake.
Dancing with her!  The snake in love with her,
     this watery undulation hers too,
     the power of the serpentine. 
Soft power.
And all at once it’s long ago,
     women gathering to share this,
     this movement, this joy, uniting us
     with our bodies, with our Earth.
The Goddess is here!  Six women dancing with swords!
There is such power...
And the Goddess says, “Do not forget me!”
Thousands of years have passed
     since Inanna first dropped her veils
     to the tune of the ancient modes, with santur, oud and dumbek.
“Do not be ignorant of Me,” She cries across the ages,
with the seven swords balanced.
“Be wise. Be aware.”






Annelinde Metzner
White Horse Black Mountain
March 12, 2015








This poem was inspired by "Stars of Jerusalem Garden," last night at White Horse Black Mountain.  Dancer and teacher  Mizilca has been gathering fabulous dancers and musicians at Asheville's Jerusalem Garden since 2001.  This art form was created by and for women, as a way toward health and self-knowledge, and it invokes in me a sense of ancient wisdom.

Snake dancer Logan Labbe Jarrel- photo by Don Talley

Seven veils dance by Claire Dima- photo by Don Talley

    
    
    

Golden Wings of Isis, Charlotte Louise-  Photo by Don Talley

 

Scarf dance by Logan Labbe-Jarrel, photo by Don Talley