A MAN lived in a small town nestled in the heart of the Pyrenees. It was quiet and old, and had an air of tranquillity that the man cherished. His name was Antonio and he was a dancer. He danced not for the appreciation of others, but for the joy it brought him, for the connection he felt with the world around him when his feet touched the ground, matching rhythm with the heartbeat of life.

The townsfolk, accustomed to their predictable ways, found it strange. Antonio, with his unpredictable moves was an aberration, a note off the song’s key. But he cared not. The melody he danced to was not theirs, but that of existence. It was a harmony that transcended the ebb and flow of daily life, that floated above the peaks of joy and the troughs of sorrow, and resonated with the unheard hum of the universe.

With every move, Antonio felt more entwined with this music. He danced in the mornings, as the sun gently spread its warm fingers over the sleeping town, and in the evenings when the moon stood sentinel over the slumbering roofs. He danced in the rain and in the snow, in the heat of summer, in the cool embrace of autumn, and in the freezing chill of winter.

Each dance was a story, a silent conver- sation between him and the world.

One day, with the sky above infused with shades of pink and gold as the sun made its descent, Antonio danced like never before. His body moved with a certain fluidity that defied the bounds of physicality, his spirit in rhythm with the cosmic ballet that spun the planets around the sun.

Onlookers watched, captivated by the spectacle unfolding before them. In that moment, the dancer was no longer a dancer; he was the dance. He had achieved what he sought; a perfect harmony. He was neither swept by the highs, nor oppressed by the lows. He existed, a steadfast presence, deeply empathetic, yet untouched by life’s inevitable aches.

It was an elusive blend of serenity and care, a state of spiritual equilibrium. And as the last light of the day gave way to the velvet darkness of night, there was only the dance; the dancer gone.

Lord Byron
Dubai

Published in Dawn, August 31st, 2023