One Saturday night I was dancing alone
in a room full of people, a dance of my own.
I got out of a taxi the very next day,
and a radiant woman came walking my way,
and she said, “Last night I danced with you!
You didn’t see me, but I danced with you!
In your bright tie-dyed shirt, an incredible pace,
you were dancing and twirling all over the place,
and your eyes, they were closed, I saw God in your face.
And your bliss drew me to you,
the joy that shone through you,
your bliss drew me to you,
your ecstasy.”

When I called you weeks later, choking back tears,
the bliss was long gone, consumed by my fears.
And you said, “Don’t talk ’round what you’re feeling inside.
I’m listening, Emmy, you don’t need to hide.”
And I heard what you said, and my heart opened wide,
and I took what you offered, and I cried and I cried.
And I wept with a sadness for too long denied
‘Cause your warmth drew me to you,
the love that shone through you,
your warmth drew me to you,
Bonnie.

Now I’m thinking of you and the sadness you feel.
You’re going through changes and trying to heal.
And I’d love to give back what you’ve given to me:
A comforting presence, peppermint tea,
or a song or a dance for the sadness you feel.
If you let it flow through you,
the dance can renew you,
and bring you back home to yourself.
For when sadness flows through us,
the bliss can come to us,
and bring us back home to ourselves.
We’ll let sadness flow through us,
so bliss can renew us
and bring us back home to ourselves.
It will bring us back home to ourselves.

© Emily Melcher 1999