A blog about anxieties, fears, insecurities, friendship, family, loss, caregiving and everything else that is part of the experience of being a female Torontonian.
Sunday, 14 November 1999
The Dancing Princess
On the rooftop of her castle,
She dances gracefully into the night.
Gazing wondrously at the heavens,
Praying for something with all her might.
And I had almost heard her whispers
Had she not beheld my sight.
Still, mark me as I say this,
It was of some aweful plight.
And yet she dances on, she dances,
Dances gracefully through the night.
And the pillars, and the columns,
Throughout her castle, stand upright!
They tell the tales, hold the memories
Of the girl who dances through the night.
I hear them speak to her, overtly,
Telling her, It will be alright! Out strength and rigidity will protect you Should any harm come into sight! Fear not the harshest weathers That unsuspectingly come in flight! We, the columns, with your walls Will for that battle, fight your fight!
And as she listens, she envisions
A devastation of the site
That one would think was yet to come
But yesterday had caused its fright.
Still, at that thought, she does not quiver,
Nor is she bitter or full of spite.
She simply dances on, she dances,
Swiftly off into the night.
Awakened now by the sound of o’erlapping whispers
Cloaked by smiles, and of her plight,
She opens up her eyes to see
Them staring – their positions holding tight.
And the millions of ignorant eyes
Observe intently, that she takes flight
From their view; races upstairs
To the rooftop to see the night.
To dance freely among the stars
Underneath the soft moonlight.
Peacefully in the night.
Yet, now below the Earth is rumbling
And sending tremors to commence a fight.
And outside the winds are raging;
Clouds concealing all the light.
And she hears a quiet cracking
From somewhere not within her sight.
A soft whistling soon accompanies
Her possessions being thrown left and right!
And still she does not quiver,
Nor is she bitter, nor full of spite.
The castle’s come down times before
On many nights much like this night.
And she knows they can’t protect her
And she feels that it’s alright.
The pillars, they are old and weak,
and weaken more from light to light.
Her walls: frail, hollow, yet beautiful.
Yes, it is quite a deceiving sight.
And still she dances on, she dances
Dances gracefully into the night.
Focused intently on the heavens
Hoping for the day she takes her flight.
So that she continues, never halting
Wishing, praying with all her might
For milder winds and softer tremors
To instead disturb her peaceful night.
That on one day, she, at least
Will have endured the most destructive fight -
To have found the strength within herself,
and still be standing when comes the light.