The General Dance Poem by Daniel Brick

The choices I make puzzle people.
A woman, who watches over me, clutches
her favorite book called "Reality."
It conveys in plain prose the truths
of daylight reality, its thesis being
there is no other viable reality
in which human beings can prosper. It is
so committed to its thesis that the book
shuts itself at twilight and remains dormant
until dawn has scoured the last fringe of darkness
from the roof of the world. "It's a Smart Book, "
she tells me. "It knows when a new threat appears.
And it takes action. Isn't that reassuring? "
I nod my head, not wanting to be seen by this
sentient book. Another woman, closer to me in age
but less in character, chides me, "It's unnatural
to love the Night with such passion. The Night
is simply the realm of Darkness, it is at war
with the Light." She pauses and searches my face
for agreement. "The Light will prevail, " she says
with Sarastro-like calm. "Those who hide in darkness
will be discovered, and...." She does not finish.
She turns away from me into an empty space, I am
negated. I know this gesture, she means the Light is
everyone's story, it fills the air we breathe
with its familiar triumph, but it is stale air to me.
I crave something new, or at least renewed. I keep
my face hollow, revealing nothing within. More people
arrive, more like-minded people. They cluster
in small groups across the square, preparing for
The General Dance. It is ten in the morning. The sun
shines down on the orchestra and assembled citizens.
The familiar strains of Ravel's DAPHNIS AND CHLOE
summons people to their daylight brilliance, and they
surrender to the music's wild wonder, and dance
with high steps and sheer abandon. I cannot resist
the rhythms and join them in a paroxysm of delight.