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! 



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.