(Excerpts)
IN THE CORRIDOR smiling faces, some well-known, some of strangers, quiet concentration.
Faces line up. Hands handling phones. Anticipation rising.
Stomach churning, but eye contact, yes, eye contact, easily found. Lean on it. Lean on what is light. Right: warm hand on veiled shoulder, sweaty shoulder, frail or strong shoulder.
(…)
What consideration!
What support – for all doubt,
For meager voices,
For me
For life in this
Cube of exploration
White space – green song
Warm voices – blue song
What gifts from
All
When you ask them to
Take my hand
What surprising generosity
We make life
More than words
Of echoes
(Read full post here)
The Blackbird
Related Blogposts
searching rest in movement, I waste myself, afloat carrying and being carried forceful, yielding a soluble state of being availability of moving and being moved letting go carried away bent by what escapes me inhabiting contradictory forces, I find myself in between.
(I want to grow in you and you in me) “She lives in the deep oak forest, in the holy moon cave; from here she protects and heals all life. Diana, the wild primordial woman, soul of the forest, she is the hunter. She is the darkness. She is the…