DANCING
I'm not thinking,
I'm dancing.
The body knows how to dance
before the mind can form a thought.
Dancing is:
my body's dream.
It erupts like a spring on a barren plain.
God disguised?
When my mind fills my head
it always wants to name the dance,
name the step,
direct from backstage,
sell tickets to its IQ.
My foot just taps a beat.
Dance
comes from the whole cloth of my karma,
not words.
My body remembers my sins,
my joys,
it spins and fancy dances
into the past,
predicts the future.
Pull the plug on my mind
still my foot will go en pointe
when music seduces me.
Quiet down, grey cells,
watch that leap of faith take hold!
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