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 and scars open dance .
The rub the rhythm raw against our soul 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 and 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 and 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.
The everyone can come to our heaven dance.
We have come to be danced .
Where the kingdom’s 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.
We have come.
by Jewel Mathieson