All existence is Dance. That which we call divine
Is the cyclical motion in all that exists.
Circles have least resistance, therefore does the Dance
Of the boundless creative force give us a glance
At the knowledge cohering a world that consists
Of too much to make sense of… And by whose design?
In the words of the physicist and the mystic
There is similar meaning. Nothing makes much sense.
But when observed closely enough, one will then find
That there is a deep system to process designed
For no logical purpose but to be intense
To the lucid perceiver most realistic.
Must I learn how to dance well on God’s ballroom floor?
Would I worry that we’d step on each other’s toes
On the outset, and thus cause some embarrassment
To myself or to others in my discontent
With how well I am doing? The best of me knows
I must Dance… or just watch the Dance. There’s nothing more.