I wish I was a dancer
like the men and women I saw
the night a drunk took my freedom.
I wish I could spin and sway
imparting love and joy and grace.
My dark eyes restrain the tears.
I stare at ever-still legs
and yell and scream at God , 'Why me?'
Do your tears fall like summer rain
and your face thunder in rage
when one of your lost children sin
and cause unspeakable sorrow?
The dancers moved me to tears
that magical and horrid eve.
They spun a tale of loss and gain
and didn't say a single word.
I watched from my metal chair
as they ducked and weaved and loved.
I can not lift even one hand
to hold my wife ever again
and share with her my wordless love
or say, 'I'll always be there'
because she's with you in heaven
while I am prisoner on Earth.
In my pain you remain silent
but your body on earth, the church,
it spins and moves and prays for me.
I hear you speak by their actions,
you dance over the whole earth.
And I watch you move every day,
performing over desperate lives,
I know your body's language now
is love, almighty God of life.
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