The Dance
I would have
each couple turn,
join and
unjoin, be lost
in the
greater turning
of other
couples, woven
in the
circle of the dance,
the song of
long time flowing
over them,
so they may return,
turn again
in to themselves
out of
desire greater than their own
belonging to
all, to each,
to the
dance, and to the song
that moves
them through the night.
What is
fidelity? To what
does it
hold? The point
of
departure, or the turning road
that is
departure and absence
and the way
home? What we are
and what
were once
are far
estranged. For those
who would
not change, time
is
infidelity. But we are married
until death,
and are betrothed
to
change. By silence, so,
I learn my
song. I earn
my sunny
fields by absence, once
and to
come. And I love you
as I love
the dance that brings you
out of the
multitude
in which you
come and go.
Love changes,
and in change is true.
