We Have Come To Be Danced
~ by Jewel Mathieson
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 & scars open dance.
The rub the rhythm raw against our souls 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 & 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 & 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.
Then everyone can come to our heaven dance.
We have come to be danced.
Where the kingdoms 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.
~ by Jewel Mathieson, from This Dance: A Poultice of Poems
