I am caught in a slow dervish
dance where my turning feet
barely raise dust and yet I am
ecstatic smiling the way a bear
dancing does. The lumbering
body playing fast and loose
with the spirit immaculate
in its playfulness, mischief, seductions
that only flesh and blood can enjoy.
I am slowly, slowly turning getting
drunk on that wine that once was water,
looking for that RSVP for the wedding
when the hostess says, “No invitation needed.”
And starts dancing with me.
-Byron Hoot
