| |
There are a lot of people here tonight,
dancing in their socks.
And I can't help but wonder
how many of these socks
have been danced in before....
Everyone here has a story
of the first time they understood --
"grokked," as the geeks say --
dancing, perhaps in their socks,
as a greater, even total understanding
grew from the silence unheard
between the beats,
the unconscious shift from one position to the next,
hearing the music,
feeling the music,
BEING the music!
And in that moment, there is
no concept of "tired,"
no "sober" or "high" --
there is only the music,
all of us, forever,
part of the endless dance.
And as this understanding grows
we regain recognition of the spirit,
bringing us together into
a fellowship --
Koinonea.
As I stand here reading this poem,
I see communities already among us,
from co-workers to co-habitators --
from childhood friends who grew up here in Boonville,
to folks who never met until they needed a ride to Boonville --
from the greatest minds of many generations
to those who only know the solidarity of a summer afternoon
or are united simply by collective recognition
of literary or musical references --
these are our shared experiences, shared love.
These things make us a community.
And it is through the shared experience
of the endless dance,
of the psychedelia,
of the long drive to Boonville,
of finding things within ourselves we didn't know were lost
that we become
this fellowship of spirit --
Koinonea.
Even if you have never been to an event like this before,
even if you've never met anyone here before,
your experience has already begun --
the love has already brought you here.
The community, the fellowship,
the spirit, the love we all project
is real.
Thank YOU
for sharing it with us tonight.
|