“Dance with Me,” is Your whispered request,
And I don’t understand your silent behest.
Still, You gave Your gently uttered word,
And I debate whether it’s completely
absurd.
You’re holding out Your scarred hand,
But You’re a gentleman and won’t force me
to stand.
There’s doubtful hesitation on my part,
Due to the scarred flesh of a wounded
heart.
And You’re still waiting, so I grasp your fingers,
While a tingle of trepidation still
lingers.
Gracefully, You lead me to a garden glade,
Where all the allusions of the world melt
and fade.
And I simply become that joyful child
In her blue cotton dress, meek and mild.
Twirling bare feet in Summer grass,
Dizzy, hoping time would never pass.
No audience, no prying, judging eyes,
Face lifted heavenward, staring into the
skies,
Because in a child’s mind, it’s where You
live.
Hearing an unheard song, this is what she
gives:
A simple dance for You, blowing her kisses,
And it is You her young heart misses.
The wind caresses her sun-kissed cheek,
And she dances for You ‘til her knees are
weak.
So I hear the song begin again, soft and
slow,
Hear the tempo whisper in my heart, light
and low,
And dance in Your arms because You love
me,
And I love you. Those words will remain
forever true.
