When I Dance

When I dance the beladi, I pull the joy
That other women have misplaced
Out of the earth beneath my feet and transmit it
Through my hips, my hands, my eyes
Back into shimmering air so that the lost ones,
The scarred, the frozen can let it
Enter them again.
At least
They can feel the joy as it brushes past
Their lovely, frightened bodies.
And perhaps they will remember
A bliss they knew before birth,
And still can own once they recall it.
The world is full of wounds.
I dance to remind us
That it doesn’t have to bleed this way —
That joy dwells in our cells, if we let ourselves feel it,
That we ourselves are Goddess, if we let ourselves be Her,
That all the world dances, if we let ourselves see it.
— Theresa Roberts
Great Cards from Anne Baird

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