The Dancing Prayer

A long time ago a young boy said to me, “Here, let me lead.” We were dancing, I guess.

I never got the hang of it, letting the boy lead. It always felt like we were welded together, my feet wanting to follow their own steps.

So, what did I do in place of holding on? I let go, did the jitter bug for a while, and

then, just solo.

What happens to those of us who hang on for fear of falling? Eventually, we fall anyway, it seems.

***

A very long time ago, people were holding on to things like food and access to

water. Now we grip our devices, and hold on to the right to talk to someone

thousands of miles away, and we create invisible

weapons in case we fall, holding on to a space of dominance in a cage no one can see.

And has arrogance become the answer to all of pain?

In the midst of it all, we hold on to the mind, until, at last, it too is gone and falls

into who knows where. Did we let go of God because we can’t stand to be loved?

***

In the cave of my heart I seek Your heart, I seek Your hope, alive in the rush of

water, in Your promise within the naked wilderness.

In the wasteland I have created, I listen for Your ceaseless word

and the covenant that calls.

In the rhythm of, joy and grief, I do the dance of holding on

and letting go.

At the edge of Your ring of fire, I do the dance of loss and gain,

so as not to be burned by Your love.

Follow me, let me lead? Whose voice is that?

Letting go into the unknown must be my daily prayer. Holding on to the known

must be my daily illusion.

I seek the nectar of Your voice, telling me to ask in order to receive. I await the tidal wave of love I know will come.

Dance with me, God of the dance.

As I fall, You call.

© Linda Beatrice Brown

Jan 27, 2026