Dancing The Real

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/uucollective/2013/08/dancing-the-real/

You danced once, there, in those rocks.
It meant something. It all did—you,
your love, the beautiful stones. You
danced there, happy. It meant something.

Those things, they were as real as
the cotton in the threads of your scarf.

You danced there again, there, in those
rocks. Many things meant something—
your love was there. You danced, looking
to the horizon for meaning.

Those things, they were as real as
the thread in what you had lived for.

Still you dance, in those rocks,
there, wet in the rising tide. Your
love. Your happiness. The stones
cry out. Yet where is the strength

to turn? Even a bow is too much.

Those things. They were as real as,
as real as . . . Those things were real.

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