Move me into the very center
of the sorrow, never mind tomorrow.
It is here that death
brings me to a higher life
without the striving for
a more resplendent me.
In the center, only Thee.

The dance is always dangerous,
taking place upon a cliff.
I, open-armed, receive the grace
of removing every “if.”

We dance into the void
and then we circle back again
and fall into the sorrow,
never minding where or when.

A unity we’ve always been
and evermore shall be.
The dancer in her sorrow
and the joy in finding Thee.

Move me to the core of pain
removing every thought of gain.
Here I live and move again
without the endless, endless strain.

The muse of movement leads me now.
Not a furrow on my brow.
The moon and waters of the soul
bathe me now and I behold the
sun still shining down on me
as stillness comes to set me free.

Love has moved me to the center
removing every painful splinter.
Sorrow weds the Host of Joy
and they give birth to the holy boy.
The dove and olive branch sit by
pointing ever to the sky.

Vicki Woodyard