The Dance

Towering above me

the trees sway, their grace

an ancient power

moving within. I breathe in their gift;

the journey begins.

It’s not easy,

this path within.

I have traversed it many times only

to end up lost in the darkness—

retracing my steps

from the half eaten breadcrumbs

I conveniently thought to lay. I didn’t trust.

It is hard to trust when fear binds the way

but neither is it easy to move on. It is a dance

of uncertainty.

The trees pay no mind,

Just continue their sway,

their whisper a truth: fear

is but a myth.

I have walked with fear all my life:

of the dark, of authority;

of displeasing others. Mostly,

I have been fearful of not being enough—

of failing, and of others bearing witness

to who I thought I was.

I look up at the swaying boughs

as their whispers gains strength.

Impossible not to hear now,

have they always been that loud?

I ponder my fears and

the losses they promise: of control,

of power, of identity—

a tightening of the heart, a

squeezing out of light and joy.  A fear

of love.

A small bird darts past 
into the safe spaces beneath the trees, a raven calls
in the distance and the wind, always the wind, 

encourages me to dance to the rhythm

that calls itself fear.

I dance to the trees, to the earth, the sky and the waters.

I dance to the authority I feared and the power I lost.

I dance to the birds and the fern, the squirrels and the moss.

I dance to my jealousies and resentments and unfound judgments.

I dance to all the people I have hurt and to those that have hurt me.

I dance to light and joy. I dance to the darkness and fear. I dance. I dance.

I dance to love.



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