Invited to Dance with God

Osho said go to god dancing. I can't. You? Morning finds me

still fencing in the blue. All day I try not to know

what I might, then sunset strikes a blow. Again. Night.

Who are they, all these preachers, bearers of light, who say the plagues come to

teach us, dance outside. While dragonfly freely gliding, spins in the

skies, I'm with the ant crawling hiding, storing supplies. How could they

be carefree prancing, feeling no guilt? Winter is near. I'm not dancing. Hear me?

That's it. Yet for some reason lights keep on igniting at night.