I sense a rite in running,
rhythmical pounding
along the lines that skirt the town
following the fields, the signs that say leaving
the aching of my lungs
swallowed by the great open heavens.
Growth is in the soil.
We spring into life.
Activated, confident. Feeling the wriggle and pull of new desires.
To playfully, sensitively and intelligently cross lines, and empower others to do the same.
To give weight and attention to poetry and the power of words, written and spoken, and to infuse them with our movements.
To continue reaching for a profound and sustained practice of love, and giving love.
– The Spreading Fire
Related Blogposts
INTERPLAY (i) For Flow – to read aloud D istance between between between between between between vibrating beating tissues our constellation long and taut across impossible spinning measures. Cotton-mouthed thick-grey turning pink red gold I lean dangerous give myself to the plane drink your…
I move through air and dust. Feeling each particle against my skin. Moving through water and earth. Sometimes uncontrolled and sometimes grounded.Stuck to the ground and up in the air.Always connected to the surface. The unseen and seen.Always in movements as energy. Never stopping.