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  • Rehearsal - Lisa Torcato

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    The dancer is rehearsing, allowing their body to harmonize with the serenading music in the only way it knows how through dance. As their toes draw tunes on the floor and arms flow in undulations, an opera of emotions balloons out of the dancer as different movements - from cambrés to pirouettes to waltzes - transform their body into a floating hymn or flowing fugue. By the end, the slow ballad allows the dancer's frame to bow and find repose as the nocturne dawns inside them.

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    A short poem on dancing.

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    The dancer is rehearsing, allowing their body to harmonize with the serenading music in the only way it knows how through dance. As their toes draw tunes on the floor and arms flow in undulations, an opera of emotions balloons out of the dancer as different movements - from cambrés to pirouettes to waltzes - transform their body into a floating hymn or flowing fugue. By the end, the slow ballad allows the dancer's frame to bow and find repose as the nocturne dawns inside them.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Flag for inappropriate content
    7 views2 pages

    Rehearsal - Lisa Torcato

    Uploaded by

    languageservices
    The dancer is rehearsing, allowing their body to harmonize with the serenading music in the only way it knows how through dance. As their toes draw tunes on the floor and arms flow in undulations, an opera of emotions balloons out of the dancer as different movements - from cambrés to pirouettes to waltzes - transform their body into a floating hymn or flowing fugue. By the end, the slow ballad allows the dancer's frame to bow and find repose as the nocturne dawns inside them.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Flag for inappropriate content
    of 2

    Rehearsal

    The serenade wafted in the air.


    And my body harmonized,
    The only way it knew.
    The only way there was.

    Dancing

    The tip of my toes drew a tune


    On the smooth prelude,
    Drenching it in pure bliss,
    Pure spark.

    A cambr* transformed me
    In a floating hymn,
    With a pirouette of surrender,
    And a waltz of glee.

    My arms flowed
    In undulations of fugue.
    An interlude of feelings
    Seeped into the rhythm--mindless.

    As feather-fingers spread,
    A whole opera of emotions
    Ballooned out

    In an elegy of tears.
    Tears of memories,
    Tears of joy.
    Of attainment.

    This ballad slowed,


    My frame bowed.
    Found repose.
    The nocturne had dawned inside.

    Lisa Torcato
    May 2017
    *Ballet to arch the body
    Image: playbuzz.com

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