I am not the caress of the Mistress;
but by right I am –
nor am I the Lord of the Dance,
though by right I am –
and I do not conduct the orchestra;
though by right I can –
for there is nothing that is not of me;
though this is also true of thee.
What then can we do – nay I,
for you must also choose …
I offer an invitation to the dance,
for to know life
one must live life;
which somehow involves ever you –
Forget the close ordered steps
proscribed by another’s will –
Throw off the shackles of music
described as good and bad,
and listen to the EverSong
with open heart and hand.
I can neither dance well or long
with pain my closest friend,
but I can embrace the dance of life,
but in need of a partner of chance.
I can waltz with a child standing
on my scuffed ‘n aging shoes
long after the melody has ended.
I can smile at an aging crone,
reaching out to the girl within,
and treasure her shy wink of knowing.
I can lift a girl from a wheelchair
and glide between the stars
to the rhythm of quick throbbing hearts --
or I can dance in the tree-bound moonlight
with all of you now at once,
just by choosing silent awe and wonder …
for we can always dance …