Did you know
you can dance
even when you're sad?

It may seem inappropriate
to shake your hips
while your heart is exploding
But I swear-
some of my best dances
I did with my heart in a sling
and my soul in a cast.

Draw an invisible circle on any surface,
turn up music that flies in the face of your sorrow
and give it up to the sky

The worst that will happen?
you'll break a sweat
The best?
try it for yourself
moonwalk through your despair
and get back to me.

Dance.
Even when you're sad.

The long grass flows in waves,
rippling in the suns rays,
that travel down to me.

My young mind flies,
as my old body lies,
in a soft, grassy sea.

Arriving took a while,
it was worth every mile,
now I rest my sore bones.

Listen to the chorus,
of the lively forest,
where my happiness roams.

My breath joins the breeze,
gently rustling the leaves,
of a kindly old oak tree.

I close my eyes,
feel my chest fall and rise,
how nice it is, to simply be!

The ‘Moment Of Truth’ came
I sat, alone, next to
The birds nest
It was silent
I was silent
I watched my breath walk
And then came the pain.

A smile.
The breath continued
attitudes arose
and their throats were slit
With Uncle Tejjy’s razor

We continued
It continued
And there was no problem
Tears,
And the bird left the nest
Empty.

If you'd like to dance
Like no one is watching
You mustn't watch either.
Don't judge the way
you assume they do
Because No One can dance
If you'd just let it.

I promise you this.
There are movements your body craves
That will lay waste
To this silly distinction you make
between it
And your mind.

So in a pitch-black room
With the windows blocked,
Let yourself respond to the music
The way you've always wanted to.
Don't check in to see if it’s pretty.
It may very well not be,
With the way you’re looking at it now.

But it won't be a lie
And it will be dancing.
No One asked you for this dance
And it always gets its way,
eventually.

There is no shortage of mystery here
For us, conceived in dying suns
There is no shortage of mystery here
For tiny dancing 0's and 1's

There is no shortage of suffering
Everything is being eaten
there is no shortage of suffering
In our mind's eye only, we see Eden

But there is no shortage of mystery
simple matter makes minds melt
There is no shortage of mystery
The holy spirit is matter felt

We suffer for no reason
And for the same reason, we play
For everything, there is a season
But it doesn’t always work that way

Behold the world is stranger still
Are you sure you know enough to worry
You have not begun to understand
If you are not a ball of tears and fury

And you have not begun to finish
Until your laughter fills the air
There is a field beyond our minds
And I will meet you there