Sakura

Today during Dance practice for our YOG performance (We're doing Sakura for the Judo finals!) Laura asked us to take some time to 'feel' the music. We switched off all the lights, sat in a circle facing outwards and closed our eyes while the music filled us.

You know, when you're sitting alone in the dark and you don't know what's going on around you and the hypnotic music plays, you get transported to a different world. Suddenly, sitting on the floor in darkness, I became alive.

It was quiet, quiet drama, but there was no rest. Chilly thin air tingling with mystery; the audience watching in silent awe. A lot, a lot of tension. Then there was snow. Snow on the dry grass and the tiny wooden bridge and on the banks of the almost-frozen river. And a pair of red wooden clogs. A red umbrella. A pink kimono as soft as her white skin. She could have been a princess.

Then it all disappeared and became a dark, wet road. Ahead, red lanterns and a warmly-lit room. Other kimono girls pouring tea for the men. And in that room was her husband-to-be. The snow fell hard, but she didn't allow the biting pain to show. She was a swan in the form of a princess. She had a performance to put on, and her lover would be watching. A performance? Her life was a performance. A decade of pain and struggle hidden behind a flawless mask of grace. Over the years, it had become her. She was grace.

Then it all disappeared and she was surrounded by fire. Passion and hatred and screams of despair and hurt. A raging war. The fire was reflected in her eyes. The fire became her. And then she was in control of the fire; the fire became one of grace.

And she floated out of the flames and the snow, she and her pink kimono and red clogs and painted lips and the hint of a smile.

And through it all, with such precious dignity, such flawless beauty.

(I just realised that if you read all of the above quickly, it sounds pretty stupid.)