To the One Who Dances

by Marilla Hess

You spin the moonlight shafting
on my soul,
That descends from limpid regions
of swaying galaxies,
Where planets silent turn
in dazed adoration of Your Dance,
And stars step lightly through
the fur-lined corridors, all waltzing.
From comets that lift burning eyes
to trembling, ruby arrows, all a-gleam
That echo wild from ancient, sculpted forms
of pale and introverted ice,
And kaleidoscopes of gold twist over
bending mass of strong-willed wine.
Where rhythm gathers strength and
haunts its chime
In lonely wilderness, where one
wild star
Pulls out its modeled bow across
the quivering string, and
Throwing back its shadowed face,
lifts to the One Who Dances,
Abandonment in song.

Marilla Hess lives in Idaho and stays busy finishing school, teaching, and reading books.