A new poem: The Dance

A celebration of dance and prayer and how the two relate to one another...




I slouch

Knees inverted

My back against a wall

That is tall

In a hall

That is dim.

A wall flower

That is dying

And crying

And vying

For a chance to be noticed by Him.

My palms sweat

Brows wet

For someone I’ve rarely met

Who I’m sure won’t remember me.

He is well known

Well liked

Well loved

Well received

And I am

Well

No One.

The wallflower

A girl who is dying

And crying

And vying

For a chance to be noticed by Him.

He enters

I listen

My pulse races

As he paces

Closer to my side of the wall.

The girls he passes

Are more lovely than anything

I could dream

With skin made of cream

And eyes that gleam

Burst of blue, brown and green

And hair with glimmering sheen

And a body that seems

More schemed

Than natural.

He passes

These splashes

Of perfection

And glides closer to my side of the wall.

He sees me

The wallflower

That is dying

And crying

And vying

For a chance to be noticed by Him.

My palms sweat

Brows wet

For someone Ive rarely met

And he sets

His hand on mine

Pulling me onto the floor

Which is no easy chore

He powerfully whisks me into his arms

I blush

As a rush

Of adrenaline

Takes my feet into the air

Others stare

As we soar beyond time and space

I see only his face

When the ground crumbles beneath us.

We continue our dance

Until every circumstance

And the sorrow

Of tomorrow

Fade into oblivion.

In his arms

I am supported

No longer contorted

And defined

By my spine

Against a wall

But a fall

A fall into my lover’s arms

That disarms

Every fear

And tear

bringing cheer

As my dear

Pulls me in closer to his heart.

He calls to me

And I speak.

In his presence

I am no longer weak

And I finally reach my peak

I am who I want to be

I am who He made me to be

I laugh out loud

In the clouds

That shroud

The crowds below us.

The crowds yell at me from the valley.

They reach for me there.

I want to let go

I feel myself falling

But He is holding me still

He takes me to the mountain

And we dance on a fountain

Walking on water

My feet fodder

Making splashes

As I crash and

Bask in

All that He is.

I love this day

And the way

That we play

And we dance

And I say

Why can’t it always be this way

I hear him say

It is always so

When you pray

Because to pray

is to open the door

to the floor

where the one you adore

stands

waiting for a dance.