The Russian Fire Ballerina

You steal a glace from deeper than choose
As you flaunt and turn in your pointed shoes
Your face shines hopefully bright
You cheeks reflect pure silent light

Is Russia's deep and severe smile
Your body's learned the pain of style
You're shared great ballerina's souls
And heard the strictest teacher's growls

Those memories will never fade
In pain and anguish stars are made
For dancers dreams are burned in fire
And bodies molded past desire

So you must flash and flame on stage
Your heart near busting in it's cage
Even when you're crushed and down
You'll not be offered comfort's gown

For deep in Ballet you must almost die
For other's joy to see you glide and fly
You cannot choose another gait
For God has sealed the message of your fate

There's such great hope in you to Russia sent
That you may glow in Ballet's frail torment
Every muscles slightest pull and need
Will fold your spirit inward into seed

Then sow those seeds in your own company
And grow among all dances desparate pleas
Bring urging blossoms bright and gay
Dancing all own moonbeams into brilliant day

Richard Field
April 2003