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March 2010

March 2010 -- Dance

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  • Ask an Artist:
    Why the Mirror?
  • Behind the Art:
    Watercolor on Illustration Board
  • Artist Spotlight:
    Interview with Priscilla Hernandez
  • EMG News:
    News for March
  • Wombat Droppings:
    Inspiration Gets You Nowhere

    Features

  • Many Roles, Part 1

    Fiction

  • Poem: Dance the Sky
  • Fiction: When Death Dances


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  • Dance the Sky
    by Karen S. Riggin

    Long ago, when I was young, I used to dance the sky.
    I whirled about and all around each shooting flame of star.
    My toes once tapped the rhythm that sang in every land,
    And when the dizzies claimed me, I'd sink and there I'd lie
    In fragrant grass, inhaling deep the fragrant scent of meadow.


    But a lonely cow soon licked my face and woke me from my nap.
    Yawning huge, I thus discovered I'd fallen down to Earth.
    A fragile disk of moon hung low, which verified my theory.
    The slurping cow whose face wore brown had soulful earnest eyes;
    He mooed and took a step away from my sudden, wakeful sight.


    The cratered black in the distant moon became my blissful center.
    I’d never seen such wonder as this planet’s room of lights.
    For hours I was trapped in thought by the spectacle of the moon.
    And so I rested on my elbows through that awe-filled night.
    ’Til morning’s dew had come and gone, and the sky had rolled to dark.


    That single cow soon drifted off with its tail in a pendulum sweep.
    The lighted moon began to wane, and the stars soon closed their lights.
    Still I gazed as the colors rippled and paled the sky to gray,
    While the greens of Earth still glistened in their sweet, melodious song,
    And the golden sun began to whisper in apricots and plums.


    And as the Daydust claimed my eyes, I quite forgot my path;
    The stars could not remind me, for the sun had swept them off.
    So I stood and danced the prairie, admiring the soft of Earth.
    Thus, through the shine of day, I heard the chatter of nature’s life.
    The rhythm of the planet caught me, and wove me into still.


    I rested through that night and day, sinking in more deeply,
    And when I woke, he was there; he showed me even more.
    This planet truly satisfies with its warm, soft nest of soil.
    Its children own the joy of laughter, the taste of pleasure, and love.
    And as for me, I rarely miss those times I nightly danced the sky.

    Karen S. Riggin dreams in science fiction and teaches second graders when daybreak hits. During evenings, weekends, and vacations, she transposes alternate realities into words and scenes from outer space. She writes novels, but keeps a portfolio of short stories and poems at  http://shaara.Writing.Com/ Three of her short stories have just been published in the November issue of Spectacular Speculations http://www.speculativefictionstories.com/ Another story will be included in the Farspace2 Anthology: http://www.utilityfogpress.com/farspace2.php.
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