Constance moved by light of silver moonbeam,

Closed her eyes, face raised to the stars,

Danced a passion, wild, in throes abandoned

Paced her rhythm to a beat afar, 

Gave herself to sky and earth around her,

Hummed beneath her breath as on feet flew,

Elevated heartbeat kept the tempo

On heath and hills, in harmony, she grew,

Became the sky, the stars, the earth, the planets,

Became the dance, the heartbeat of the all,

Constance whirled and thundered voice at climax,

Believed the force around that to her called.

Constance fell and lay upon the summit,

The distance far below now too far gone,

She stilled the dance, the voice, exhausted, worn out,

Silenced heart attuned to severed song.

Thrummed the earth, a chorus deeply beating,

Constant in its whirling, in its turn,

Beat to beat the constant earth and Constance

Recommenced the dance and life went on.


4 thoughts on “Constance”

  1. I really love the flow and motion contained within this poem, Anne-Marie. For me it almost reads like open prose and, despite it’s sense of movement, I found myself reading it slowly. Wonderful!

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