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.”

I cannot help but feel I speak for all humanity. There again is that audacity.

Yet again, I decline the honor and revert back to the dancer position.

Oh, how proud I have become! Surely the dancer will be killed? Why is my flesh enlightened? It is not I that dances. Some spirit is here in the flesh body that I am obliged to show my steps to. You want to see me twirl now? I might say this to that.

And now watch this! haha! I do a leap I did not know the body could for I only remembered that the body sinned.

I lost the connection again and again. That I was but a dancer. Then I would find it again and again, that I was only a dancer.

I blinked on and off and only turned on when I fell to my knees worshipping I knew not what.

And I would pray this prayer: where would you have me go? These feet to move where? These eyes to see what? these hands to touch who? these ears to listen to what? To follow what sound, what beat? to dance where? To sing of what?

I had to fabricate my own god for my senses did not see nor hear nor smell nor taste nor touch anything holy.

Then oh no, I made a man into god. I turned you into god. ohoh, I’ll pay for this dearly! I keep doing this. I must stop. but it’s too late. We merged as you now have a tracking device on me and I suspect I have one on you. All right. Fine. Worse things have happened then having the beloved roam your mind all the day and night. Worse has happened than to be possessed by love.

Heck, you gotta be a willow here or the wind will uproot you. Have some more caffeine. It doesn’t really wake you up but it’s good to take a coffee break from such deep thoughts and then I’m back to god thoughts again as I can’t stay away.

God would not reveal himself so I had to fabricate what it was I thought I needed or else I would die in my own passion, consumed by my own yearning to find god.

God was only a word where they left out an “o” in the word good. Wouldn’t it be nice to have some good in our lives?

At last I loved. And in the loving was God. In love I danced. For I was only a dancer and it would be good to know what I was. I loved myself. I could feel myself. I could touch my flesh. I could smell myself. I could look in the mirror of another’s eyes and see myself. I could hear my single note sound. I could even follow another’s note into the richness of their soul. I had become god. God was hiding in me. Everytime I met another god it scared and thrilled me at once as God poked out his head, like a jack in the box God would spring up from the heart of mankind. Love was but play.

God played. God hid. God revealed. Do you want to play? I am ok with yes or no answers.