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RainDancer
lissa stands on a dune, cloak about her shoulders, hood pulled up over her head as she watches the gentle spring rains spatter upon the sand and dance with the waves.
It is coming a time of renewal, of regrowth, and new life. lissa breathes deeply, savoring the moment of solitude. With outstretched arms, palms open to the sky, face upturned... the simple slave girl welcomes the changing season.
Rain kisses her cheeks as she slowly begins to sway and turn. All alone she dances. Long delicate fingers reach to the sky then trail down her body from chin to belly. The cloak falls away and the rain soaks her silks, molding them to her body.
She gives herself totally to the moment and whirls, feet stamping out a rhythm to match the beating of her heart. A smile curves her lips, joy colors her cheeks, the fire stirs within... she is slave, she is free, she is a woman.
She dances with her soul, clapping her hands as she turns left, then right. Tears of thankfullness mix with the rain. Contentment wells up from within and spills out from her lips with a musical sound. "I am slave! la kajira! la pagar kajira!"
lissa falls to the sand, knees planted widely apart, arms open wide, rivultes of water streaming over her clinging silks as she offers all that she is or can be. Slowly, she folds, pressing head to the sand, hands outstretched over her head.
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