Hoop Dancer - Bruce Cockburn

    Tokyo Jetlag Evening Walking
    Out of my throat appears this chuckle
    A true 20th Century sound
    A little crazed and having no tonal centre

    The echoes of this laugh fade for a long time
    Snaking among those jumbled pedestrians
    Following that struggling Cedric taxicab
    Sliding over the seeming infinity of white light and neon

    With no warning, mind's eye winks like a lifespan
    And opens again on memory flash of prairie Indian
    Dancers -- they're on a stage, all jigging motion
    And flare of bright feathers, surrounded by white faces
    Floating on a sea of mind
    Hoop dancer struts in front -- drum and voices blend with endless rain

    There's a time line
    Something like vertical, like perpendicular
    Cutting through figures shuffling on horizontal plane
    Cutting through the survival pride of the dancers
    Through the guilty, sentimental warmth of the crowd;
    Through to some essence common to us, to original man
    To perhaps descendants numberless ... or few

    Where it intersects the space at hand
    This shaman with the hoops stands
    Aligned like living magnetic needle between deep past and looming future
    Butterfly pierced on each drum beat, wing beat, static spark,
    storm front, energy circle delineated by leaping limbs

    1st man last man dancing man man dancing
    Hoops in hand trampled grass circle spreading
    Voices flame above crazy coyote heartbeat drum

    I see sunrise on the plains big river at dusk
    Perpetual pillar of dust on prairie rim and always overhead
    those wings -- circling, turning

    He's the earth he's the egg he's the eagle always circling
    Always turning -- always comes back to the centre

    Hoops whirling, now transparent feet touch down on anaconda
    Streets and on the next leap dissolve slowly into the moving lights

    Rainbow steps, jerking universe
    Goodbye, Man-in-time
    And just beyond the clatter and cars the last long notes of wild
    voices ring
    Like Roland's horn

    (Tokyo  5/9/79)


    Marco Giunco
    Work Basket Music Words