Tango-Poet

The counterclockwise churn of the milonga's revolving door ¡Volver!    After years away... Tonight she again enters at tango's door, A waterfall of sounds, a tango pours Out millions of moments before her eyes. Tango may be latent, but would never die. It burns still inside her. As she sits to hear As D'Arienzo brings her back to the years... When dance was a way of being And being a way of dance. When eyes closed, a way of seeing, And seeing, a way of trance. ¡Volver!   It echoed in her soul.   ¡Volver! ¡Volver!   It echoes in my soul.   ¡Volver! Her years of tango-silence are broken With her nod to my request unspoken To dance again what once so moved her. Strange that I, too, fought off tango's lure. I had better things to do, I said. "Don't return To that wooden path's counterclockwise churn! I'm tired of having nothing but dance to live for!" Yet, soon I, too, am again at a milonga's door, And I,

Why souls come back to earth As spirits, mortals call us the Kissing Nebulae from the far reaches of the universe. We have no reason to look back and wish for the suffering of incarnation. But given the chance to dance once again, you and I take it, like children ready to play. Our first moments remind us of the simple things of incarnation--to feel breath again, To feel the earth under our feet, to see only with eyes, hear only with ears. The music starts and our first song of the tanda is the embraced breath-dance of two bodies. Then we move, now as an incarnation of the music like never before on earth, perhaps? Each note and phrase impels us to do their bidding. We do not have to know the music. The music knows us . We were music’s instruments to play as Music directs. I feel your body against mine as it warms from our dance of grace. Did I ever notice how wondrous this was as I once lived an embodied life? How I wish I could tell those young souls dancing near