In ballet, there is music
and soul—enthroned
in the heart—and even
something more—beyond
which reverence forbids
to be named or bound,
and then there is a body
let to sway and flow
into beauty, touching
on that ineffable and
sublime, and if the Tao
Te Ching says (Verse
Twenty Four) that no
one can stand firm
on tiptoe and that no
one can walk straight
with legs wide apart,
sadly the sage forgot
or did not know yet
about the Ballerinas.
And when it comes to
honoring the human form,
even in terms of the Tao
and the ensuing oneness
wedding nature and art,
only Egyptian and Greek
statues and their later
revivals could rival
the genius of Russian ballet
when it’s set on making music
with a body as its instrument
and on writing gallant poetries
with faces, feet, and arms
and lines lit aglow, and while
we try to walk the Tao’s path,
ballerinas turned it into dance.
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