All your legs and arms and form
wearing draping cloth
that moves in a wave around you.
I no longer no where you begin and end
Your motion is blurred in the dim lighting.
Furiously and fleetingly
you move to acoustic music that plays softly
in the background,
or am I just hearing things?
Am I hearing the beating of your heart
and crafting a rhythm to match?
I clap in time
You beckon, I dance
Flailing just like you
The clock is melting Dali-style
We are beyond time now.
Sense and reason have nothing on us.
Heart beating, soul pounding
I can feel our breaths
Then the music jerks to a halt
and we drop to the floor
beside each other,
inside each other
Melting into one mystical creature
Not phoenix or liger
but something outside of words,
not an it but a living thing.
Let us spread our wings
and stretch our talon-claws
When the house lights go up,
we will fly away.
My wife and I were watching a documentary on a burlesque troupe the other day.
I loved, as the narrative unfolded, the reoccuring themes that began to appear.
They spoke of freedom, of expression, of overpowering the shame hurled upon us by the powers that be.
We all have a unique gift to share with the world. Though we are always tempted to conform, even in art, to express ourselves only in ways we think we ought to act, think, and behave.
But there is richness to be found in self-discovery, a heavenly wink found as we uncover who we really are (and who we are not).
We think if we give the audience what they want, they will be happy; but they will be happier still if we give them what is true.
IF we are alive and engaged, it frees the audience up to do the same.
As morning light slips in through the window, I
slip you out of bed,
set my hand upon the small of your back
lift your hand into their air
and we begin to waltz.
We dance to tune of birds chirping at the window,
birds that have beat us to the day,
and slip out of dancing,
we take a shower and eat breakfast,
and dance some more,
we meet with friends for coffee,
go back home,
play some music,
watch a movie,
read a book
watch a bit more Netflix,
spend some time alone,
meet back together again
between soft sheets,
our eyelids heavy,
our breathing still,
I kiss you-
honestly, it is an expectant kiss,
you see through all my movements,
you smile, you sigh,
we think of dancing,
we fall asleep.
The next morning, who knows?
Perhaps we will dance again.
I walked into your party with a Bible in my pocket
You didn’t care
You asked me to dance
You’re always asking me to dance.
I moved without a care in the world and you got a kick out of it.
Sometimes, the best moments in life are just letting go.
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The music plays and I ask you to dance.
I bow to you and take your hand.
We take position in center of the floor,
We have ditched the inhibits that plagued us before.
The music continues, we begin our dance
Twirling and swirling, as if in a trance
As the string section sways back & forth with their bows
I can feel the connect ‘tween us blossom & grow
Step. Step. Turn.
We circumnavigate the floor
‘Til the music stops, and we don’t dance anymore
Then I bow again and bend to kiss your hand
My dear, it was my true pleasure
to have this dance
~2 Samuel 6:22~
Why are you hold back, bashful one?
Who taught you to fear?
Go out and dance
in strips of ribbon,
beating your tambourine
in spite of the howling wind.
Hug your brethren,
erode the walls of division,
for God & the life He gives