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The Dance

Dedicated to David, the dancer, who has no physical legs and yet dances with the passion of life as if he does.

 

There is a dance within me.

It weaves its sensuous threads within all

that would be me.

I have no legs.

 

Yet the dance will not cease.

It asks nothing.

Only sweet surrender to its greedy tones

sweeping me here, there, everywhere.

 

I am no longer me.

I am within and outside of myself.

I am the Watcher

Of the Love within that is me.

…Of the Rage within that is me.

…Of desire and release and pain and joy.

I surprise myself.

 

I dance the dance.

I have no legs.

The tones are my legs.

They slither down my would-be body

Holding me, absorbing me.

 

I forget.

I forget who I am.

I am the music.

I am the dance.

 

 

For further reading on a particular subject found in this writing, please click on a topic heading below:

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