Dancing in water

It was a madness of the noblest kind, 

fifty people in the river, dancing with strangers 

soaking but laughing. 

Musicians on the bank, 

without a music stand between them, 

strung notes to melodies 

and melodies to shapes for dancers. 

I nearly wept to see such love 

of music, dance and water.

Such defiant pointlessness of joy;

or maybe just the utter joyfulness 

of pointless celebration. 

When my hope is wearied 

by despair of drones and bombs and guns, 

or green and living lands turned grey and grim, 

and broken lives enslaved by exploitation and addiction, 

May I always remember these strangers, 

dancing together young and old, 

soaked but laughing, lapping up 

the innocence of pointless pleasure 

as the river, pointless and purposeless itself, 

chuckled to the sea.

(Inspired by on Sidmouth Folk Festival's unofficial "Dance in the Ford")