• landscape,  lifestyles,  Plants,  snow,  sunrises

    The Dance

    Corn stalks in snow on a cold winter morning

    The Dance by Linda Tarman

    Things are changing.
    Slowly, and without much fanfare,
    The movement of the soul
    Begins its dance.

    At first the notes ascend lightly
    And linger in the ear;
    Tantalizing in their simplicity
    Gracefully calling
    “It’s time to open yourself
    And leave the safety of your hiding.”

    My heart hears, however faintly
    And knows it’s true,
    My feet, slower to catch on,
    Sit planted, keeping time,
    Biding time.

    Rise up, Oh love,
    Have you failed to remember
    The hope of being desired,
    The beauty of being chosen?

    His hand is extended
    The choice is now mine.
    I feel my stubborn will giving way
    To the impassioned desire.

    Here, caught in the arms of eternity
    I leave my place of redundancy
    And, let myself enjoy the dance
    As love’s boldness
    Sweeps me off my fear.