the sound of the sea

the sound of the sea

you could hear him from a long way away

you could hear him above the sound of the wind

and the waves

as he walked

barefoot

singing

spreading his toes into the cold white quartz and feeling  icy lapping winter waves snake over his feet, feeling the thrill of the chill run up his legs and into his body reaching his soul. The warmth of his being embraced this moment and all that there was and so he sang the song of the sea and the winter’s song.

Victor was happy.

He was old now, his torso still strong and burned by the summer sun, his face gnarled and he walked like the young man of twenty he had long forgotten, sandals made from rubber tires in his left while he conducted his song with his right. He wore the black beret he always wore and he wore a smile that came from somewhere very deep.

lololololololo… he sang and worked his way up the musical scale the way he had been taught and then back down again, and to get it all right you felt the top of your head…felt the notes vibrating there…lolololololololo

Music became a part of him from the first, a song his mother sang, gently swaying, rocking him in her arms close to her heart, music was his life line to all that there was, it made him come alive and soar…he lived the music as he danced it, he was transported into realms he could share only by taking his dancers with him, teaching, urging, showing, flying till the feet were sore and the toes were bleeding……live your dance, he would shout, live the music of the dance, live, live, live it till there is no more pain and only the song and the dance!

He might join the ranks of Perrot one day or Cechetti in St Petersburg….or he might  go to New York and study with George Balanchine… he could do anything he wanted to…he would, one day he would go beyond the dance and be the ballet master of all ballet masters and take all the dancers with him…fly beyond all that he knew…

His journey though, had not been as easy as he thought. It had been a hard ride. He had great strength and  great expectations and there was nothing ever to stop him. He was young. He was beautiful. He had talent and he could dance, had  a persona to match…

…and…

…then he met Sofia who was named after the city of his homeland, who became the love of his life and the light of his life…

…and…

…then came the children and the money ran out…Sofia grew heavy, as did the lines in her face and she left with the young ones … he too left after that to begin anew, still with a song in his heart, still with the dance in his soul but now it was better to walk and not dance.

better to walk

where the wind would carry his memories along with his song  where you could hear him

above the sound of the wind

and

the waves

from a long way away