This is not a dance of the Texas Two-Step,
No,
Nor is it one that asks that you dress up for the occasion.
No,
This is a full throated, open bellied, flaming hair dance. One that doesn’t wait for the full moon or the right time.
This dance is in full daylight, exposing yourself totally. Its teeth are white and the grimace to the hot coals is real.
You must dance and dance and dance until you come to a standstill. Until the coals are cold, and the sunset has just peeked around the corner of the horizon.
This is only for you. And only you.
No one is coming. No amount of begging to stop, asking for water to put out the flames will help.
No,
This must you do alone.
You dance until the soot is all that is left. The depth of your being is now ground into and one with the soil.
The earth yields itself to you.
Only then can you merge with the Infinite.
Only then can you say Yes.
Letters to the Universe 