Cutting Into A Dance

Poetry is not something I do…

it comes to me like the accident of life…

it must be a propensity from previous lives…

it constantly wants to cut into my life

and show me miracles I need to see…

it spins me, keeps me dancing to the music,

the momentary manifestation of the sphere…

the orb of silence, emptiness, the ground…

where the dance originates, where I cut in.