Posted by: Postordinandy | October 17, 2012

Firedancer

Each is called to the dance.

 

To leap, untrained,

to move in and out of time.

Alone and with others,

we define our our presence.

.

The Lord of the dance watches proudly

as we stumble joyfully,

giggling at our shadow,

our bodies and minds responding to the rhythm of life.

.

No criticism here,

just encouragement.

As a parent watching their offspring

throwing wild shapes at a wedding disco,

impervious to and disinterested in proper form,

lunging and diving with the bass line.

.

This is not a safe dance,

no promises are made of trophies won

muscles can be torn,

ankles twisted and limbs shattered.

.

This is not a safe dance, no.

.

The music sometimes demands much,

drastic movement and sharp detour.

We will need to pick ourselves up off the floor,

and choose to ignore the shame of our fall.

.

We dance by, and with, and in, and through the light of the fire.

The pace changes unpredictably,

the direction with no notice.

.

We get burnt as the flames touch,

cold as they withdraw,

blinded by both intense brightness,

and sudden shade.

.

Each is called to the dance,

asked to throw ourselves into reckless abandon,

not to stand by the edge and watch,

but to be,

and shape,

and call others,

and move,

and embrace,

and live.

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