“Those who were seen dancing
Were thought to be insane by those
Who could not hear the music.” Nietsche
Palm Sunday Tango
Our cocked ears strain toward a not-so-distant future
To catch the first notes of an untamed Lindy Hop.
But now we dance a mournful marathon not of our making,
Dragging our weary bodies and souls behind us, waiting to hear
The last dreadful note.
We will dance with abandon
When the Lindy notes sound at last,
But in this time between we endure,
Faithful to the dance we hear now.
We learn the steps as we go,
Leaning against one another,
Hanging on, cheering on, crying with.
Tomorrow’s dance is for tomorrow.
Today we dance to the music we hear today-
c. Rita H Kowats 3/27/2021
*I am deeply moved by this post https://www.ritualwell.org/ritual/mourning-dancing