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                         Underground eXperts United

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         [  I Dance in Circles from the Bridge  ] [  By Jay DeKalb  ]


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I Dance in Circles from the Bridge
by Jay DeKalb


My eyes are cast on the rippled water
from up high on the McKenzie Bridge,
malleable spine curved over the protective rail.
My arms are dead weight
and metal fingers rake the water carelessly.
	Everything is tinted red
	and creeps through shadows.
	I draw a weak fist
	and shake the river water.
	The wind screams like a slaughterhouse.

I am too heavy, even for the guardrail
and I fight gravity like a puppet in amateur hands.
Unnaturally I fling parts of myself into the red atmosphere

but even death demands a moment of control
I will not remain here forever.
Gathering strength, I synchronize my limbs
as a pendulum and drag over the rail
onto the lip of the bridge

and the pendulum breaks
into beats of three
into one two THREE!

I shoot forward with gained momentum,
limp in self-pity and both hands now scrape the sky
	but the world falls quiet at an instant
	reality repositions and flashes bright and I
	hang in pure silence- stunned.
	Fade like the moon back onto the bridge

In rage at failure, I reform the pendulum.
I kick my foot straight into a clear blue sky,
Over the orange body of the sun.
For a moment I vacillate between the water and the sky.
I find that my spine has realigned
to hold an equilibrium.

But before the fall
I swing through the quiet air
back onto the bridge, completing yet another circle,
landing lightly and amazed

still spinning
in circles, each less constricted
than the last and the space on the bridge
expands and my circles grow wider
as I flail in joy and exploration
	-then collapse in exhaustion.
        The stillness bears down

Tap, tap, tap

The McKenzie river sounds again.
The waves lift and lower their feet,
rippling a beat as to introduce a song.
They tap their feet and
toes tickle the air in a low hmmmmm

Trees lean over both sides of the river banks,
bow their backs and play the wind like a violin
with a soft chord rising in intensity
and coaxing the birds into quick whistles
and a distinct rhythm that invokes
otters onto sun-warmed, ivory rocks in the river-
clapping and answering the
awakened world with melodious voice
as Yellow Scotch Broom comes undone,
swinging wild in a spontaneous dance of
reconciliation with the earth

and the rhythm catches me up

I step, step step.  I step, step step
circling myself and dancing to the music
that raises its voice and the violinists sway
over, gaining momentum as they work the wind
into a thousand held notes notes
that overlap each other split seconds at a
time while the melody quickens in pace.
The whistling birds and the tap
and tickle of the river current
battle for the forefront.
It's loud.
I am singing and shouting
instead of brooding over thoughts
and I step, step step.
I dance in circles from the bridge.

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