the dance…
who knew i was so popular
on the dance floor?
one by one
they take my hands and
move my feet
the music always
playing
these friends
well, acquaintances really with
their many names
one after another
they come
there seems
no criteria for choosing
the equal opportunity dance partner
that i am
greed and chaos have
their turn
and then there’s charity and
peace
a two step with fear and
a waltz with worry
some joy and hope find
their way to the floor
true happiness always waiting
for me, patient as she is
my Beloved watching, waiting
not one to cut in
nope, not a rude bone there
this one’s a classy dancer
then anger with
his friends, resentment and
bitterness (the blind dancers that they are)
having their turn
loneliness comes along with
her slow song
she’s a subtle softy it seems, until
she lays one on me
the scent of depression
lingering…
no one wants to
dance with me and
why would they?
i take a dose of
ego mouthwash (you know the kind)
it lasts a little while then
it fades all too quickly
left standing alone thinking
about leaving this dance
the music still
playing
(well, i did say “always” didn’t i?)
but there standing
next to me waiting as
always
is my Beloved
hand extended, feet ready
no one leads better, you know?
(yeah, you do…dig deep in that heart memory)
such rhythm, such grace
i am carried away whisked
up like a fairy tale i rise
i rise, on love thick air
i rise
swirling and twirling a
cascade of tears, joyous and
sweet sweat showering down on
all these toe tappin’, party poppin’
line dancin’, disco fools
with our Love
a spinning top, i am
a Whirling Dervish, you see
that Rumi had it right and
Shams before him
with our Love
true happiness no
longer waits to
keep my dance card full
so i ask…
how can you possibly
sit out?
step away from the
punch bowl, friend and
bring forth your
two left feet
‘cuz this life ain’t for
wallflowers
The Metta Garden 