Dance in the Dark

I dance in the dark. 

Inhibitions cast off,
I twirl and twirl, like a graceful ballerina, free in a broad expansive world. 

Walls disappear and the dark of my room rushes to blend with the testimony of the universe—spirit meshed with Spirit.

My arms hug tight and reach wide—
stretch inward and outward to embrace and be embraced. 

Move, Spirit, move.

Simple melodies carry my open-chested praise past the corners of the ceiling to celestial halls unfettered by   atmosphere     and         stars           and                 space.

 Miraculous union—the soul’s yearnings unbounded—
unloosed in a moment of genuine worship,
fitted one with the other,
created with Creator.

Slow slow, fast fast, step step – mind and body joined in declaration of Your worth.

 My will lays down my right to rule.

 I  b  r  e  a  t  h  e  out surrender as the music plays.

When I sit in church, hands in front, fingers tap tapping,
praise swells and creeps round the edges,
peeking out, slinking away, afraid of prying eyes.

 Too many eyes, too many voices, too many too manys. 

But alone yet not alone, in my own shadowy sanctuary . . .
I dance in the dark.