Your legs become at one with the ice,
Warmth that flows into the cold –
The ice, the friendly ice,
Has many faces:
Smooth like sheened gossamer it takes the blade like water,
Like the kiss of a lover’s lip or a child’s soft touch,
A caress that runs deep,
That gives power and grace and precision,
And above all, speed –
On such ice skaters sing in their movements
And their smiles are pure joy,
Their moments are a nothingness,
And they become pure in their existence.
Wherever they are, they’re alive:
They are themselves
And their lives are like water,
Fluid in the living.
On other ice the blade sinks too deep
And everything is effort:
The smiles remain, but this is a time for learning, not dancing.
Ah, to learn …
Pushing to the limits, each skater finds themselves tested:
Beyond the test comes transcendence,
And the code for living life.
Feelings and the mind are everything,
Where the mind goes, the body follows –
They carry their treasure without knowing.
To skate, then, with these angels of the moment
Is to be in heaven!
Ice skaters don’t realise what meaning is in their skating …