Castor and Pollux

The battered yellow cab left me
near the corner of Castor and Pollux.
I threw down my jacket and cap.
I stretched just a moment or two
and then joined the dance.


We danced from corner to corner
softly, softly chanting the ancient words
"besot the day, besot our night."
Sway to ancient words of Hellas.
I leave me behind.


Our chant and our dance lead us out,
free from expectation, want, or desire.
Bestill the day, let live the night
and all days and forgotten nights
gone no place at all.


We leap in that place that is not
but still is the dance. On fire, yet moving
I sweat, I’m hard, yet more I climb.
Senses bears us, "Stay in the dance.
Tread a measure more."



Then dance o'er shadows all until
weary, breathless, chanting the ancient words,
we breath the bonds. Whispers, shouts
now carry us up as we sing
this relic in my ear.




DHH