‘Let’s face the music and dance!’ Irving Berlin

Welcome!

I have called this blog Dancing Around the Divine because that is what I have done for most of my life.  Danced around ideas of the Divine being out there, in me, in others, in things.  I have played the too busy, unworthy, not qualified, too sensitive blah blah cards to excuse me from the dance altogether (as if that ever works!).

But one day I felt a little stirring and heard a little heart music coming from…. wait for it…..the most spiritual of places….yes, you guessed it…..my washing basket.  Honestly, I’m not mad, in that moment I just felt a deep and profound love for the Ordinary in my life.

Then I started to look for the Divine Dance in other Ordinary places.  I mean, could the Divine really hang out with me in the interminable meetings, or be with me when I am cleaning up dog you know what?  And much to my surprise the answer is YES.

I hope you enjoy the blog and this poem.  I wrote it a while ago and it seemed appropriate.

Much love. Chris

 

Shall We Dance?

She is hanging washing on the line

It has been a long day

With no time to stop or reflect

Now it’s late and dark.

 

She feels the breeze

Playing around her body

Running its fingers through her hair

Pleading with her to dance.

 

Closing her eyes

Opening to the moment

She accepts the invitation

And the dance begins.

 

Taking her in its arms

The breeze begins to sway

Slowly moving her in time

With the breathing of the night.

 

Passion pain desires regrets

Chasing each other wildly across her mind

 Women have burned

For less than this.

 

She is all things contradictory

Moving yet still

Attainable yet elusive

The essence of woman.

 

The dance slows, the emotions linger

Opening her eyes she finds

Her washing and her body

Motionless.

 

Did she imagine it

Turning to the glory of the night sky

It takes her to its heart, reassuring her

Of the internal and eternal dance of life.

 

Feeling loved beyond words

She finishes her household tasks

And smiles knowing it is no small thing

To dance in the dark and be loved by the wind.

 

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