Dance when you’re broken open.
Dance when you’ve torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance when you’re perfectly free.
Struck, the dancer hears a tambourine inside her, like a wave that crests into foam at the very top, Begins.
Maybe you don’t hear that tambourine, or the tree leaves clapping time.
Close the ears on your head, that listen mostly to lies and cynical jokes.
There are other things to see, and hear. Music. Dance.
A brilliant city inside your soul!
The ARJE store in SoHo...
We are planning some exciting things.... ;)
Do not surrender your grief so quickly
Let it cut more deeply
Let it ferment and season you
As few human or divine ingredients can
Something missing in my heart tonight
Has made my eyes so soft
My heart so tender
My need for God absolutely clear.