Some Might Call It Dancing
Some might call it dancing,
I call it stumbling closer to God,
the unrehearsed
falling forward into love
as if the world was tipped.
Operatic in my cells,
lunatic for life,
I am taken to the place
where dancing is
infinitely less about movement than being moved --
for when the world is tipped
and we, drunk to our eyes
in love's ballet,
are willing,
there is nothing not dance,
no one not dancer,
no place not stage,
no breath not a standing ovation before God.
Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at October 3, 2008 11:07 PM
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