Ryn's Writing

Writing

Droplet on a spider's web

sun glistening, shining, sparkling.
wonder, reflection.
clinging to a strand of silk.
tenuous existence.
Fly! caught! breaking free...
lightening fast she captures.
wrapping silk, spinning.
tired. stops. rest.
slowly moving closer.
catching broken threads, repair.
sun glistening, shining, sparkling.

My Sun

My Sun, my Star, my Moon
My dreams come true.

Warmth stealing into blood in the dead of winter's night
Like melting chocolate
Thickly spread over cool flesh
Prickling of flesh quickening in cool wind
Like icy fingers
Trickling coolness over breasts
Speeding pulse exhilarating body to searing action
Like speeding downhill
On a racing bicycle: flying
Gentle caress of a light summer's breeze through hair
Like warm breath
And a delicious thrill along the spine

You are my paradise and my delight. My utopia.

Moon Dancer

Cathryn huddled in her jacket, lifting the fur-lined collar around her pale face. Eyes so brown they were almost black stared at her own feet, stamping warmth below the knee. Bells jingled.

"I'm frozen through," Sandra whispered, voice pitched low and just loud enough for her dance-mate to hear. She jiggled, arms wrapped around her own torso.

They stood outside the main doors of the Hall in which they would perform their first public Moon Dance. They both tugged at their inadequate fur-lined jackets, bare knees almost blue with cold. A rumble of laughter trickled through the crack in the door as the King's guests delighted at some joke.

Cathryn stood in silent meditation attempting to quell the insistent fluttering in her belly. Outwardly she appeared calm, allowing the laughter to wash over her. Sandra danced on her toes. To keep warm, she kept telling herself as she jittered about to hide the shivering of nerves in her limbs. The women exchanged glances as they looked towards the heavy door, another peal of laughter ringing loud through the carved wood.

The girl's feet were twined in the traditional blue and green ribbon-bells of Nareth House, the home and training centre for priestesses of the Moon. Cathryn's mind wandered, thinking of the warmth of Nareth House. She remembered the beach where Sandra and she first met and pledged themselves to each other in their first Dance. Meredith, the head-priestess, had been pleased with the Mother-Moon's choice.

Meredith shared with Cathryn later, "I'm not surprised. The two of you complement the Lady perfectly." They both touched fingertips to the crescent-tattoo on their foreheads, "I shall miss you Cathryn."

When Sandra and Cathryn arrived in their new sleeping quarters, Cathryn noticed Meredith's loving touch with a small bouquet of star-flowers in a pottery vase. Sandra had squeezed Cathryn's hand tightly in understanding as Cathryn's eyes sparkled with tears. "She is the only mother I've known," Cathryn whispered.

Cathryn stamped her feet against the hard packed earth, raising a tinkling of bells. Sandra stared at her, bright blue eyes filled with adoration for her dance-mate. Cathryn's dark eyes lingered on Sandra's ankle, full lips twisting in a concerned smile. "Will your ankle hold up, Sandra?" she asked. As Sandra opened her lips to answer, the door opened a crack. Their signal.

They somersaulted through the open doors, twinning their movements from the moment their feet left the earth. The full-moon's cold light glinting from their naked torsos. Bare pale skin between the intricate tattoos of the Priestess clothing their bodies like fine lace. Short skirts flew high, revealing long, shapely, muscular legs. They were as like as twins in face, body, and build, their differences like the opposing faces of the Moon. Sandra's pale hair against Cathryn's midnight black, blue eyes against dark brown, and bright pale skin against warm golden tan.

Cathryn whirled, leaping gracefully through the wide open ring surrounded by feasting tables. Every eye was mesmerised, the women and men leaning forward in rapt attention to the edge of their seats. Sandra's movements perfectly mirrored Cathryn's. They were already one in spirit. Each stamp of their feet produced a jingling of bells, punctuating the dull thud of the drums.

Cathryn's attention wavered as she caught sight of the faces held in rapt attention. She faltered, missing a step, her heart racing. Sandra covered the misstep, matching it exactly. Cathryn's gaze flickered over the crowd, hoping no-one had caught the mistake, hoping Meredith, the King's guest on this Holy night, had not noticed. Meredith's smile was marred by a small frown. She had certainly noticed the mistake! At that moment, Cathryn turned her attention back to her partner as the dance brought them together. Sandra caught Cathryn's eye and her lips curled into a slight smile. Cathryn returned the smile, relieved, and quickly schooled her features once again at Sandra's slight frown of concentration.

The dancers' tempo quickened, as it should, and Cathryn's body spun, a blur of movement. Sandra's form mirrored each whirl, fine white hair whipping out around her face, the weighted beads woven through the ends fanning the hair until it stood like the face of their Lady. Cathryn's midnight black hair spun out, revealing the opposite face.

Every eye was captured by the young women's spinning, until it seemed they spun faster than starlight. The dancers' moved closer and closer, twin tornadoes of movement, punctuated by the quick jingle of bells. The audience gasped as it seemed the two would collide. They seamlessly joined hands, spinning together, their hair creating opposing semi-circles as they drew each other closer and closer.

Arms reached out to embrace around waists, hips and abdomens touching. The dancers moved closer still, ribcage and then breasts meeting. Cathryn's white skirt stood out at an angle to her legs, mirroring Sandra's black skirt and their hair. Brown eyes met blue and finally their lips joined. The drum-beat stopped. Their bodies blurred as a stream of moonlight entered the window over the Throne, locking the dancers with its light. The two half-faces merged. The dancer stood still, bells silent. In the light, the dancer glowed, her skin and hair brightening the hall. She walked from the hall, casting shadows behind the watchers. Ribbon bells jingled softly, a sound like moonlight on the water's edge.

The door closed behind her and she nodded to the guard, catching his eye. He gasped! One blue eye and one brown looked back at him. He knelt, trembling, as the woman bent to anoint his brow with soft lips. The Priestess smiled to herself as she collected the jackets from the ground. The guard's eyes were still downcast when Cathandra walked into the bright light of the full moon, so he did not see when she touched the circular tattoo on her forehead. Cathandra traveled moonbeams to Nareth House awaiting the rising Sun, when Sandra and Cathryn would return to their own separate forms ready to dance at the next full moon.

Last modified: June 14, 2005
Author: Ryn Gibbs
URL: http://www.gibbs.net.au/ryn/writing/index.html