Sunday, January 19, 2020
When Shiva Danced––poem by Dorothy
When Shiva Danced
I do not know how I chose my parents
or if or when.
In a way they were hard to miss,
for they looked just alike.
When I arrived I looked like
both of them put together
(black haired, blue eyed Irish)
and so it all made sense.
I was indeed their child,
one strong and determined,
the other yearning for
beauty in her life.
Life itself is not easy
for certain children,
those different from
all the rest.
She knew that she
was not like the others,
never part of the crowd
or the chosen ones.
She plodded ahead in her own way,
glasses and all,
the library her favorite place,
her sanctuary.
So when the Mother came,
she knew she was Her child.
She bowed often,
wrote verses for Her,
gave Her the gift
of herself.
And when Kundalini
exploded, she recalled
her true beginnings,
Shiva Nataraja the dancer,
singing "I am eternal bliss,"
as rapture flooded her body.
Dorothy Walters
January 19, 2020
