122. The Mid-Town Pier
I was reading through my poetry the other day and found this poem. See what you think—
—
The Mid-Town Pier
—
I was sittin’ on the pier
the mid-town pier
where it’s quiet at dusk
prayin’ you know
watchin’ the wind
ripple the water
listenin’ for God’s voice
—
and she was there
movin’ like the breeze
in an easy dance
—
she beckoned
my hands rose up in a question
and I said, “Who are you?”
—
she threw back her head
laughin’ “the one
you pray to —
come on let’s dance”
—
well you better believe
these old bones stood up
I skittered out on that pier
“I never danced with God before”
I told her. “Sure you did”
she said
and we danced
—
I gotta tell you
deep inside me
near my heart
I always knew
that the God I pray to
was a dancin’ God
—
I always knew
that the God I tell others about
could boogie with the best
—
I always knew
that the God I love
would be wantin’ to move it
slow or fast
rock or line
driving beat
or just barely swayin’
—
but it felt good
hey—forget good—
it felt great to
dance with God
on the mid-town pier
—
© Copyright 2002 by Ann Freeman Price
—
It’s hard when you imagine God as a person—man or woman—and yet in a way that’s what we say Jesus is—a person. And when I do—when I do imagine God as a person, this poem comes pretty close. Because I also feel that dance and movement are such gifts. They are gifts of connection—of you to your own body, sometimes of you to other people, sometimes of you connected to God.
June Keener-Wink taught me about dance and using dance as connection. She also created an oil lamp with a dancing flame—to remind us all of the dancing God.
