Why do I always feel like dancing

Where does sound go after it vibrates through you.

Why do I always feel like dancing;

in joy, in sorrow, in rage

To become awake, to shake something out,

to call in something else

I am desperate to wander the hills, letting my hand drift slowly, like a lover,

over the tops of the wheat-like wild grass

as they shimmer in the late afternoon heat-wind

I stretch my arms up, palms toward the sun, pulling its’ fire into my being

Charging up like a lizard on a sizzled rock

I wish I could be this powerful within range of another human gaze

My true divinity only appearing when I am alone for miles

But, I’m not alone

The hillside is full of other life tracking me

Skittish chickadees who disperse at the slightest sound of my approaching crunch

Night black beetles scurry along back into the shadows

Cows gangs eye me warily like a coyote interloper

And if clap or stomp too heartily I cause a small stampede

I am outsider in both worlds

So I demure and nod gently and tread softly and quell the hurricane in my chest

I let the pounding drum beat of my music tell my secret stories

The ones that have no end

The ones that circle back to beginning

To the ocean of a gentle summer light through a child’s bedroom window

Drawing her out into the world for another spun-round day