​We have come to be danced
Not the pretty dance
Not the pretty pretty, pick me, pick me dance
But the claw our way back into the belly
Of the sacred, sensual animal dance
The unhinged, unplugged, cat is out of its box dance
The holding the precious moment in the palms
Of our hands and feet dance.

We have come to be danced
Not the jiffy booby, shake your booty for him dance
But the wring the sadness from our skin dance
The blow the chip off our shoulder dance.
The slap the apology from our posture dance.

We have come to be danced
Not the monkey see, monkey do dance
One two dance like you
One two three, dance like me dance
but the grave robber, tomb stalker
Tearing scabs and scars open dance
The rub the rhythm raw against our soul dance.

We have come to be danced
Not the nice, invisible, self-conscious shuffle
But the matted hair flying, voodoo mama
Shaman shakin’ ancient bones dance
The strip us from our casings, return our wings
Sharpen our claws and tongues dance
The shed dead cells and slip into
The luminous skin of love dance.

We have come to be danced
Not the hold our breath and wallow in the shallow end of the floor dance
But the meeting of the trinity, the body breath and beat dance
The shout hallelujah from the top of our thighs dance
The mother may I?
Yes you may take 10 giant leaps dance
The olly olly oxen free free free dance
The everyone can come to our heaven dance.

We have come to be danced
Where the kingdom’s collide
In the cathedral of flesh
To burn back into the light
To unravel, to play, to fly, to pray
To root in skin sanctuary
We have come to be danced

WE HAVE COME

    - Jewel Mathieson

Fortunate is the hour
when you stumbled and fell down into this.

Never stand again.
On your knees remain
where the earth is,

where the fire is ever-ready
and the air ever-clear,
water, and the stones of God.

For the Woods of Error are
the words of the real,
chosen for us as

the color of your soul.
Lie where forgiveness lies,
make love to that.

For there is nothing else
but gratitude, which is what
all your longing was for.

​    -Bruce Moody

Now to walk away from all this entanglement
that is ours and yet does not belong to us,
that, like the water in an old well,
reflects us trembling and distorts who we are;
that hooks us again and again, like thorns - to walk away
from this to that
we long ago stopped seeing
(so commonplace were they, and so familiar)
then to look back once and realize at last - tender, forgiving;
as if for the first time, so close - to realize
how impersonal is the suffering that comes to all of us
that fills childhood to the brim:
And then to walk away, rending hand from hand
as if to re-open a wound,
and walk away:  where?  Into the unknown,
far into an unfamiliar, warm country,
that, whatever happens, remains indifferent
as a backdrop:  a garden or a wall;
and walk away:  why?  From mission, from zeal,
impatience, dark expectation;
from not knowing and not being known:

To take on all this, to let go all hope
to let fall whatever you may still be holding onto, perhaps
to die alone, not knowing why - 

Is this the opening to a new life?

​     - Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. Kim Rosen