Passages of a poetic play in progression

Dance macabre

I am left alone.

[A deep, husky voice "from above" starts talking to me]: "Well, what about you dear? You have come a long way. What is your explanation to the endpoint of life? You should have realised something by now."

I pause to think.

"The dissolution of boundaries. The transcending of one's ego. Seeing everything around as a part of oneself."

"Good, good. Very well. -- But you know what, you're a damn fool!"

"Of course I'm a fool. I've felt like one for a long time now."

"And a nosy one too!" [followed by hollow but rippling laughter]
[The voice continues]: "Then tell me: what is secure in life?"

"Nothing's secure. All outer structures may fail you. And they will. Spirit is secure. Spirit, justice and divine knowledge.

The rest of this damn business is nothing but one enourmous piece of theatre!"

"Yeah, right. You're a pedant, but still you're right. --- Speaking of theatre ... would you like to dance with me?"

"Dance with you! How? Can you take up a physical form?"

"Use your imagination dear! Feel me!"

And so we begin. A dance macabre. Cheek to cheek.
Quick step, slow step, a turn to the left.
Slow step, quick step, a tango.
Music flows like heavy oil inside my head.
Old music, forgotten music, passionate music.
I become one with the dance.
Lose myself in it.
Smile unwillingly.
Close my eyes.
Give myself to the magic.
The waves of dance carry me further. Surround me. Caress me.
So soft and gentle and demanding.
Bending down at the right places. At the right moment.
Whispering words lushly pronounced to my ears.
Responding to the most minute movement,
to the smallest surge of energy
through my body.
I become warm and liquid and light.
Sensitive and joyful.
I never knew I could distinguish so many nuances.
That my senses could be so open.
That I could feel so one with the world;
hold the heaven and stars and galaxies within me. 
And I feel gratitude.
A bursting gratitude over living.
Over being a droplet of this all.
Beyond myself.


I sigh out of exasperation. Fall down on the damp earthen floor languid as a rubber snake: half-intentionally, half drawn by sheer force of gravity and the rivers of warm throbbing ebullience inside of me. My companion appears to be smiling to himself.

"You know" I declare out loud "I miss structure to my life! I long for something tangible that won't let me down on a tight moment! Order, stability, organisation."

"Then what is stopping you?" the voice responds calmly.

"Well...for one...didn't I just tell you how all outer structures will fail you. It is painful. That is my experience of life in any case."

"Who says we are speaking of outer structures here? Build the structures inside of yourself and your desire for them on the outside will diminish. Just build them! Self-discipline, sacrifice, duty to your soul's task and an acute perception of the quality of time each moment: these four pilars will offer you the sort of scaffolding that the Isaac's Church itself can be constructed out of them!"

"Isaac's Church...good...for a moment I thought you might say Vatican! Building something so corrupt..."

"Set yourself long-term objectives, stick to them - in case they continue feeling "right" to you - but don't marry them. The nature of life is change. Accept it. It doesn't mean you have to let go of endurance and persistence as your guiding qualities: only direct them to a proper channel each moment."