The Irish used to believe
That they had to dance secretly.
I have danced for God;
I have met Dionysus—
Those inebriated nights
Drunk Dancing on My Driveway.
I learned belly-dance;
Taught myself a routine.
But nothing felt as great
As dancing for God.
I never hid it from Him;
I allowed myself to fall—
For I was seeking God,
And, boy, did it befall.
God didn’t want a dance.
He’d wanted me to be strong.
And go at the chance
To promise to love.
So, if this Dance is Love’s Embrace—
Then, boy, do I love God.
©2025Ellen Finn
Nov 16, 2025
Nov 16, 2025 at 4:42 PM UTC
The Irish used to believe
That they had to dance secretly.
I have danced for God;
I have met Dionysus—
Those inebriated nights
Drunk Dancing on My Driveway.
I learned belly-dance;
Taught myself a routine.
But nothing felt as great
As dancing for God.
I never hid it from Him;
I allowed myself to fall—
For I was seeking God,
And, boy, did it befall.
God didn’t want a dance.
He’d wanted me to be strong.
And go at the chance
To promise to love.
So, if this Dance is Love’s Embrace—
Then, boy, do I love God.
©2025Ellen Finn
