Storm
and Starcoat
The
Story Begins
By
Joseph
Anthony
Storm, the
dragon, unfurled her wings and the sun loosened and rose in the sky. Starcoat slipped from between her front legs
and yawned and stretched. Storm lifted
herself and shook giving a low purred growl.
“Morning,”
she said.
“Morning,”
said Starcoat wiping his eyes.
“Shall we continue
the lessons?”
“Yes,
please,” he said standing up.
“Stretch
first,” she said.
“Stretch
first,” he said with a groan.
“Come on
Starcoat, you know the value of stretching.”
“I know, I
know,” he said reaching his arms towards the sky and standing on his tip-toes,
“I just like the action.”
“No action,”
she smiled, “until after we’ve stretched.”
The two
began stretching like new born babies as beams of light filtered through the
trees. Some would say they were an
unlikely pair—a lavender colored dragon and a young man. Truth is they were made for each other. Both had saved the other’s life on more than
one occasion. Both had reason to suffer and yet both had transformed their
suffering into healing for themselves and the world. Both were full of adventure and wonder, and
surely they knew that the road to their heart’s desire was made warmer and
kinder by each other’s company.
“Alright,
Dear Starcoat, take my hand.”
He stepped
towards her and took her hand.
“Ah,
action,” he said.
“Music,” Storm
said, looking up at the trees. From the
surrounding treetops a thousand birds awoke at once in a chorus of sunlight and
morning air, they twittered and peeped like an orchestra settling in to play,
rustling sheet music printed on leaves and shaking out their wings.
“Waltz of
the Flowers,” she instructed, and after a brief pause to test their voices, the
birds began and together with the forest sounds they wove a charming arrangement
of Tchaikovsky’s timeless waltz.
“Remember,
start with the left foot. And when you
grip my hand, do it as if I am an angel. Not too tight.”
“You are an
angel,” he laughed.
“You know
what I mean,” Storm said, “no death-grips while holding hands.”
“I know,”
Starcoat said, “you’re still an angel.”
“Shoulders
back,” she said smiling, and relax, remember to breathe. Chin parallel to the floor.”
And with
that she swept him across the forest floor in a waltz that awoke the world
around them. Rabbits emerged from
crowded warrens, deer stepped from the edges of the woods. Even the bears snorted and padded into the
open space.
Rising and
falling they traveled the floor sending leaves pirouetting around them. Starcoat’s tattered coat of silver stars
swelled in the current of their flowing movements like a black river flowing at
night.
“Lengthen
your steps,” said Storm, “concentrate.”
Starcoat had
trouble concentrating whenever they started lessons. He would get lost in her eyes and forget to
relax his knees so compelled he was to just stop and stare. But he wanted to learn to dance. And he wanted Storm to teach him. And he knew how much she loved to teach and
to dance. So he forced himself to focus
on his body, and in this forcing he often lost the flow.
“Starcoat,”
she said, drawing to a pause, “You’re doing it again.”
“Sorry,” he
said, “I can’t help it.”
“It’s alright,”
she said, lifting his face and looking deep into his eyes. “I feel the same way.”
“You do?” he
said dropping his arms as his smile dawned like the morning sun.
It was the
first time she had ever admitted it.
“Yes,” she
said, and Starcoat could see her lavender skin grow deep royal purple.
With tears
in his eyes he pulled her close. He had
always known, but to hear her say it–his heart opened like a once clogged
river. The animals drew closer as the
two embraced.
“Alrighty
then,” Starcoat said after a long time, “let’s dance.”
“Wait,” she
said, and she looked at him with a deep gratitude. “Thank you. Thank you for sharing the stars with me. The light you shine helps me honor my own
fire.”
“You’re
welcome,” he said, fairly trembling with joy, “We’re a team. Thank you for
teaching me to dance, now my light can truly shine.”
And then he
placed his right hand on her back, just inside her left shoulder blade, thumb
up, fingers spread. She smiled.
“You’re
leading?” she asked.
“I am,” he
said, with his right arm rounded and elbow high, “Orchestra: music please.”
And the
orchestra sighed with reverence and joy and once again began the Waltz of the
Flowers, and each bear gathered there reached out a paw to the deer next to him
and each deer stood and reached out a hoof.
And each bear touched the inside of their partner’s left forearm and
placed their paws gently inside their shoulder blades. And every creature took
a partner, the rabbits, the foxes, and the otters (who were always dancing in
the water anyway, but took a moment to slip out and dance on the riverbank),
and the trees locked branches and swayed, and the mountains bowed and joined hands,
and the moon, still awake, received the sun’s invitation, and the Milky Way
joined Andromeda’s embrace and all the universe danced with Storm and Starcoat,
as their journey together officially began.
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