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Grace and Peace to you. Dust we are, and to dust we have already so nearly returned, even from our dearest. We are afraid, not having thought before, how one's germ is in everything. Sequestered from the plague we are all looking out of our graves at one another, distanced. We so hunger for flesh to be unbound, to come to the green, to one another, unafraid to touch and be touched. A voice calls. What graves need not hold us? For from our shrouds our spirits, free, do get up and meet on the green and dance anyway. How much of our anguish is not the assaults from without but straining against the walls from within? When will we follow, eager to touch what others have touched, to meet, to join: one living body, one single lung? For we are free to love most closely. This, to be free to dance, and to dance, in or out of the flesh—not a stretching out of time— this is the infinite to which we are raised. You are dance, and to dance you shall return.

Steve Garnaas-Holmes Unfolding

Music video by Lee Ann Womack performing I Hope You Dance. (C) 2000 MCA Nashville

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