A secret turning in us makes the universe turn. Head unaware of feet, and feet head. Neither cares. They keep turning…
Something opens our wings. Something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills the cup in front of us. We taste only sacredness…
Dance, when you’re broken open.
Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of the fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance, when you’re perfectly free.
-from The Turn: Dance In Your Blood by Rumi