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The Sage dipped his feet in first, then made himself the wind
He twirled and swirled then
whispered to the world,
"In this departure, my love I send"...
Whether caught by your rage, or hung by your fear,
there’s a fighting truth, seeming hidden yet equally clear
Whether lost in the alley or wandering the streets
in biting cold or blistering heat…
there’s a series of dances we all must learn
whether or not we know or trust
the will of our shoes, the will of our feet
“I wish I understood your words”
says he who has no ears
“But it’s murder stepping up these stepping stones
of pain throughout the years”
But the dances are forever washing
Always wiping away
Cleaning the soul like cleaning the bowl;
And each moment is a brand new day
“I wish I understood your meaning”
says she without the spine
“But I have no stomach for the games of the beyond,
I simply haven’t the time”
Still… the dances sweep us up
Like winds across the plain
Casting us into the ocean
Then fishing us up again
“We were never so clever to be fooled by ourselves”
say they who drift apart
“We refuse to pay homage, to these invisible tribes with invisible treaties,
that rule the realm of our hearts”
Yet in visions, dreams, in moments of truth and illusions, it seems
to be always dances, dances, dances…
Everything in the universe is such, as to play a game with itself
It is seen to be broken, then mended for and tended to,
then put back on the shelf
Do you hear it?
Do you feel it?
Round and round in a dervish flow
Flashing about, dashing about,
children of the cosmos, we're a stardust glow
Falling while dancing, dancing while falling
Up then down, in and out,
a universal human rehearsal...
It's an all too human roundabout
It is always a dance with a free invitation
Whether we accept it or not
It’s the process of getting to know ourselves
that is a priceless gem to the poverty of the soul
a solution neither sold nor bought
And it’s when we come dancing back round again,
to a place of great heights once yearned to be reached;
soon comes the time, with feet strong and arms long,
it’s a series of choices, a series of chances...
A series of dances… one must learn to teach