Shrouded in mist
An Arcdaemon beckoned
As white wisps whispered
Of secrets untold;
And salsa dance seekers
Sought lost answers
To those forbidden questions
The old Gods had hidden
Within the mysteries of the mind.

And so we dance
With our insecurities,
Our faith, our reason,
Our love, our lives.
We two-step to the rhythm,
To the beat of that great drum
Which we hear so clearly,
Yet fail to see with our eyes.

So spring your stride gaily
With fleet foot, thought and pride;
Lost together we’re lost no longer,
Dance together, we bring sight to the blind.


[[This poem was written on the rooftop of a hostel in the Peruvian city of Arequipa, with Misti, the snow-capped volcano, towering in the distance.]]

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