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7
The Praise Dancers…
In stilled silent
space
between garnished tables,
the word exploded:
gyrating motion
spilled out
here and there;
yet
bare clapping hands
and naked feet
made
no sound.
Staccato movements
shot upward
finger waving arms—
crescendo praises
descending
bending knees
pulled
bowed heads
to poised reverence.
Sleeping soul spirits
woke
to thrice toilsome
tried hearts
fluttering with audacious hope;
dancing to the rhythmic notes
of faith
snakelike Salome sought
to defile.
With heads held heavenly,
they danced
before the head of their lives:
the true and ever living God.
