69 I danced myself out…

I danced myself out. I fell weaping into your arms,
and with quite sobs I stayed wrapped in your embrace,
waiting for sorrows to pass that I may learn what it means
to smile, and perhaps remember where I left my laughter
and my singing heart. You held me while I waited.
You long caressed my tears. And you spoke soft
soothing words, and sang sweet lullabies
to forget my past, to help me dream of awakening
in new futures. And slowly you moved me,
marionette my tired limbs a sway in your breeze
to unknown sounds I could not even think
I would hear. Endless lives in motion without
sense or volition without hope.
And the sun’s seasons role and set the moon
stole many hearts and in the fields were sown
many bones, as I turned on my spindle until
I was threadbare and alone.
You were gone. I was somehow detached,
and I danced myself out into the night.
Lost among unknown children,
each moment just for itself, sliding
towards a newer awareness. Slow
shuffled steps that once fell on deaf
ears finally make a sound. Soft
rhythm of fabric movement.

And then a voice, high celestial
angels’ murmur falls into the sway,
my melody from my lips calling forth
once forgotten, a prayer, an invocation.