I can’t dance

I don’t know how many days
I will have with you.
I don’t know how you came
to be with me.

I can’t dance
and the tunes I carry
are always wrong.
Somehow they sound better
when they’re stuck inside;
then the beat is always right,
then the cadence slides
softly to the side.

How could you have come from me?

It’s not just these things,
but your warm and open
heart; your faith
that causes me to praise.
You seek to do the good.
You seek the highest mark.
You seek His glorious name.

I thank you for being mine.
I thank you for laughing lines.
I thank you for silver shrines.

You are the little one,
the one with the “funny” name,
the one that gets the pun,
the one that dances in the frame.

for the one with the funny name

© rl busséll 2018 – All rights reserved.