Spirit is Playful

I have been dancing with you for years and beating myself up for same. For maybe I’m all wrong. Too much audacity, could be.

I could not stop dancing as that is all I was. A dancer only. And I thought I could be more than that. Then I was fine I was never more than that. I met so many and they did not dance at all. I thought that they should. Then I thought that it didn’t matter.

I thought it was ok that some danced and some didn’t. That did not mean I could not dance.

Then I was thrust upon my knees to chant my only prayer to an unknown god. I took the last taste of morning coffee but it failed to awaken my sluggish heart.

Then you were in my head. I spoke with you daily. Fighting my love for you, for surely I must be wrong again to hear you speak like this where it is supposed to be just me, just my space in my head. I must have invited you.

I recalled I did invite you. But I thought that was only a dream. Wasn’t it just a dream?

Or is it not my head I hear you from? Is it the heart? Now I must put head and heart together? It’s not fair. It’s not fair that I can’t remember everything I did say and do in that dream.

And so I wrestle all the day and night trying to remember how I created this drama because I figure if I can get the memory detail back then I can stop wrestling with why I did what I did and said what I said. And I even made a promise.

Oh god. I made a promise! I’m worried because I always keep my promises and I’m worried that I may break a promise to you. If I break the promise I’ll be no better than a liar. The unfair part is knowing I made a promise in a mere dream yet still feeling I gotta keep it.

But I cannot figure this out. Not by myself.

I have no compass now on the sea. Something says yes and something says no. So it’s not left or right I sail my boat. Down the middle I go then, through the white foam and breakers and all will be well, as I must believe it will, even though the answer to the question I ask is only “may be, Miss Audacity.”