Dance

---

Life is not transaction,
and if we insist
on making it so
we will be left
with empty hands
and broken hearts,
shouting at the sky.

Life is dance.
The music indistinct;
we are awkward
as we start.
Faltering feet feeling,
limbs still learning
the movements
of our mothers

More and more,
instinctive,
sweet,
weightless.
Resting in the
common grace
of our existence.

One by one,
tip toe ecstatic,
bowed low sorrow,
we roll between
the rhythms like waves.
We sway
like trees in the wind,
like lovers in hold,
like a child
in her mother’s arms.

And we join the dance
because we must.
And we surrender,
not to the inevitability
of fate or destiny,
but to love.

Unearned.

Because life
is not
transaction