Capturing Movement on the Page
#theartandpracticeofmovement and the images and words that arise.
An Embodied Theory of the Cold
Unfolding through the cold white
Between the trees and me
From a Climate Scientist
Who stood upon Arctic sea ice
The frozen world
For our extension
And the strange arrangement
for our expansion.
The winter waters with the western sky
divide in two
lung touching heart
---an olympian reach between the breath of matter and the fire of spirit.
Mountain of gods, eye meet you there upon the glassy reflection.
Soul burning from the deep waters beyond the horizons,
behind and forward I am moving,
to feel you stretching into one being.
Touching the beat of my feet pounding
Monotonously up the slate-gray road,
Moss vibrancy pulls my winter heart
Into the sole light refraction of a rhythmic journey
Through the vicissitudes of a season
That is truly never without marvel.
Looking In and Out After A reading of Lokeshvara Dancing
I wish I could be the grey skies in winter form
Punctured by the white bursts and subtle ripple of cloud line.
Stage for the 23 crows —or was it 28?— that circled
In departure and return,
In arcs and lines, around
Sequoia and Douglas Fir
Pillars in the distance beyond my writing desk,
Providing form to the architecture of my longing
For inner illumined
with earth and sky and birds
In my dance
Between the lines
Never stopping multitude of angles
Prostrating to the wind and soil and hillside
My rhythm of becoming.