I love Dancing
because I’m
so fearlessly
terrible at it
I have zero natural
rhythm but that never
stops me from moving
my rump in such
a gawky manner
that would indicate to
anybody watching
from a distance that
I likely just sat on
an active beehive
my Dancing is a casserole
of wild pelvic thrusts
and pouring sweat that
feature a healthy amount of
~ Reckless Floundering
with a dash of
~ Untamed Folly
and a couple sprinkles of
~ Sweet Prancing Flubber
I’ve been told by esteemed
mystics that my Dancing
has been known to be
so untamed and wild that
it tears open the thin
veil that separates us
from the spirit world
my movements are said
to be so unhinged that
it invites the ghosts
that only I can see
to put on their
astral ballroom shoes
and to Dance with me
until we all fade into the
first light spilling over
predawn sky like it
is celestial milk
~ my Salsa is anything but mild
~my Samba will make you cry to your mama
~my Hustle is proof that the laws of physics can be bent
~ my Jive is an element of slow motion magic and sweat
there is no bad day
that a deep pounding bass
and a little space for me to spin
my Boogie Woogie
around like it’s cotton candy
can’t cure
~ you can have your Roomba
I’ll take my Rumba
~ you can visit Nova Scotia
I’m vacationing in Bossa Nova
~ while you are sleeping your eight hours
I’ll be Waltzing under a waxing moon
~ your bar hoping
will never trump my Lindy hoping
my smile is at it’s stretchiest
the more I move my feet
and shake my middle-aged ass
Dancing takes my
natural introversion
and buries it under
the Dance Floor
I spend my days parsing
my words and guarding my
thoughts like they are the queen
but when I’m Dancing
~oh, when I’m Dancing
there is nobody watching the door
there is no splitting hairs
there is not a single moment of hesitation
it’s all pop
and no can stop
it’s all shag
and no drag
it’s all groove
with nothing to prove
I live my non-dancing life
so cautiously
I constantly hear the voice in my ear:
“careful where you step, John,
don’t land on anybody’s toes
look where you’re going
what will people think, John?
don’t do anything to draw attention
take a break, John,
you’re a punchline, John,
go sit down, John,
you’re embarrassing yourself”
but when I’m Dancing
~ oh, but when I’m Dancing…
the music
and my heartbeat
evict those lies
from my head
I become a late day thunderstorm
of booming feet and lighting gyrations
I am an
insatiable whirl
~ a blur of short legs and ravenous eyes
without a single care given
about what You or I think
because there is no thinking
when I Dance
there is just constant movement
~ it’s unrehearsed joy
it’s a celebration of raw carelessness
it’s the public display of my knots being untied
I wish I lived
like I Danced
unashamed for how bad I am at it
unafraid of your judgement
unwilling to let a single misstep to slow me down
unburdened by any
concern for my past or future
and so very unstoppable
why is it the older we get
the less we Dance?
it seems like it should
be the opposite
I want my gray hair to
become the disco ball
I Boogie under
oh God,
as my skin
becomes thinner
and my veins become
bluer let my body turn
into a blaring
gospel of moving wonder
oh God,
keep the music
blasting on the Dance
Floor of my heart
oh God,
let my children
know me more for
my terrible Dancing
and less for my
masterful worrying
oh God,
let me be
more like Bacon
and less like Lithgow
oh God,
let my life
become an unpracticed
Two-Step that keeps starting
me on an adventure of infinite wonder
oh God,
there better
be Dancing in
heaven
because I’m bringing
the moves with me that
will make even Your
most devout
angels blush
By John Roedel
Image by Ruven Afanador
