To Skate

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.

To learn!
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.

 

25/01/2011

Ice skaters don’t realise how lucky they are, and what meaning there is in their skating …

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