Everyone
has their own
rhythm
but yours
is the
only one
to make
me to dance.
Faith, Health, and Other Musings
May our minds flourish with creation, and may our hands never deny its expression.
Everyone
has their own
rhythm
but yours
is the
only one
to make
me to dance.
Music is a formed space
and lyrics, the beaten door,
when I hear a song played
I’m thrown onto its floor.
And, without authority,
I’m made to recall,
where I was and what I felt
when I first was made to fall.
Thrown back into the room
where my olden thoughts were sketched,
turned about by dancing memories,
I fell forward and I retched.