Class Story 164 Dancing

(xv) Class Story 164 Dancing in the Tub 2005

 

Dancing with my killer.  That’s the only nice way to think of what we are doing.  We are merely souls, waiting for our reincarnations.  Is there any reason an unusual housefly can’t be a Buddhist?  I’ve always thought it was better to be familiar with the world of your next existence rather than dream about some fantasy place you hope to live in.

 
Round and round and round we dance, circling each other at a distance.
 
I was once a mighty dinosaur, but that’s another story.  That spider sucked me dry and left me desiccated, only to watch him die of starvation.  We are being eaten now, the both of us, by a large, wet sea creature.  He’s spinning us in his mouth.
 
Round and round and round we spin, touching each other as we circle closer.
 
Sometimes the spider breaks free, well almost free.  It’s like being in the gravitational pull of a black hole.  But if you don’t believe in reincarnation, then you won’t remember that experience.
 
Round and round and round we struggle, but snap back like on a rubber-band.
 
We hug each other tightly, as much as our rotting flesh will allow.  There’s a great deal of flotsam and jetsam caught in the mouth of this vortex.  If Spiro and I were still in the struggle for life, we could feast for a week on what’s passing us by, while we, so light, float on the top of this sea.
 
Round and round and round we dance, mutely gurgling down the drain.