This Sacred Dance

This sacred dance,

this divine ritual.

Delicate selection from the substance of me.

A leap – not sure where these feet will land.

Wherever, it will be right.

I free the color from its dark prison.

An aroma of vitality, movement, life,

potential at my fingertips.

The rain sings its little song on my roof.

Drip, drip.

Lulling me into a cadence.

The paint – a willing captive between my fingers and this canvas,

being pushed and pulled.

Setting my soul free.

The excitement of that space – between the movement of my hand

and the conscious thought of the action.

Usually thought comes first.

But here, in this sacred dance,

the movement comes first.

My hands, on a mission from the goddess divine,

finding freedom for my Self.