A child was born; the story was told in black and white.

Narrators succumbed to their vision with blind eyes,

Their sharp breaths filled the voids in the darkness,

They were breathless and quiet, restless and calm.

I lied amidst the chaos and peace,

Feeling energies from perspired beings

Hearing the storytellers drag their bodies from one spot to another.

(The uninvited light -from a curtain often drawn between the story -was menacing)

Dancing tellers of the tale found their way to the fabric of my skin,

They twisted and slithered and elevated on the ground,

Enter Color.

Against the wall sat many other curious people like me,

They too were listening to the story with their emotions and feelings

And they too, seemed unhindered by the sudden appearance of color

“What is light when the bodies just performed in the dark?” I thought,

and let my eyes wander on the crevices from the movements in white clothings.

Light, however, took us to another level of insight

It brought more synchrony and time dilation.

The clothed storytellers reflected myriad emotion with different lightings

They moved more gracefully than they did in the stygian blackness.

An entity seemed to flow from one body to another

Leaving them pleasantly frozen or in angelic motion.

Music of silence played in the background

While the bodies – gently but deliberately – contacted and flowed.

Sustained energy continued to ooze in the room

and into us curious lot…

Enter Darkness.