Ah.. yes.. beauty does not think.. does not remember..
does not forecast.. nor even feel.. beauty exists..
as art is art human or not..:)
Ah..the eyes of rain do cry in drops of joy..
ah.. the glistening colors..
do shine through
Ah.. the sad tunes.. of a human cocoon..
wrapped in blankets so secure and warm.. never venturing
to precipice of fear.. never finding imagination to grow..
a rose.. of butterfly wings.. so far
as far does go.. in Creation Activity..
nectar of life awaits.. fear is
cut off wings.. to arise..
in light from fear.. is
to arrive alive now..
with Butterfly Wings..:)
Ah.. yes the entire earth is a ball of confusion of Yin and Yang..
where material reality of west of Yang.. meets contemplating
Eastern ways… Where the human mind and body becomes
balancing Yin and Yang.. is igniting a passion
play of flesh and spirit alive as fire and love..
I Just imagine the earth dividing
Yin and Yang.. in east and
west hemispheres of being
as neurons and
the earth as brain..
Put it all together and
what will come next..:)
Truly it’s amazing ‘our’ children
can see the face of the moon..
but ‘we’ call them down from
i notice that now..
it’s truly sad
is only now..
And the children
dance with the
face of moon..:)
Decades pass by soil.. calling me..
sparkling in grain of healing..
to spray a dust of light on me..
Ah the years.. the years..
there is no sand for me..
the growth is gone..
no nourishment for soul..
will come again.. but..
with grain of sand.. i do arise..
as leaf of life.. once more.. reaching to..
sun of heArt.. and spiRit released.. in grain of eyes.. as green..:)
The breath of me.. is bark of trees.. the bark of i.. stands tall and straight..:)
Ah.. yes… many petaling stories.. flowering.. insect connections..
do lay at feet.. of nectared spector.. as cycles do tale..
spinning wheels.. of life.. beyond most eyes of
Owls of grass.. i never see.. they certainly are.. a delight..
in leaves so green.. the tree of owl.. is who at night..
and owl of grass.. is green owled wise..:)
Yes.. the scum of pond is earth’s delight.. the green that comes..
is Sun’s.. great.. synthesizing.. photo light.. the smart camera
of pond.. glistening.. in pale grades green.. do tale a
deeper story.. of amphibian stools.. in pads of
How.. sweet the owl.. of orange glowed glove.. holding
eyes so wise and warm.. the Universe.. sings refrain
of who.. so who.. so who.. rings true in
capture of love.. returns.. in
owl of orange glove way..:)
Hummingbirds please.. airwaves
for me.. singing zinging
‘copter wings.. of small
joy are they.. in nectar
songs of purple
Beauty of the worm
and purple tongued
Iris.. do work A
way into.. soils
Ah.. the old coot.. and truly when i first go dance my style is different than
all the young folks.. and i do not even care to notice the difference..
not unlike the coot of concrete human parks.. it’s too bad
the folks of concrete cannot change.. but haha!
now the youth of dance halls
do copy coot..:)
Ah.. the skies of blue.. and rivers of ocean cool.. do swirl about
in eyes of deeper blues and lights of being..
to curl about as feather in
flight.. is where i for
one.. do go.. in comfort
Ah.. i am always drawn here
as words.. for no feeling other
than sands.. and scopes of
beach.. as to view life
as whole of beach
is to live..
Ah.. the vision of the quick turns
of hummer buzzing
to feel that
each turn in life
does result in
a joy of life
as long as
Ah.. the curiosity of the young of nature..
and the motherhood of protection..
that runs strong with love..
of nurturing wild and free
The song of dinosaur.. still exists in bird.. time memorial..
time of old.. time of valley tropical.. time of lore..
time is now.. bird is now.. song is now..
Water in the sea.. water in the thunder.. water in the rain.. is all
sea of life.. tear drops.. reins of love.. endeared.. in
reign.. of Nature’s muse..:)
Umbrella of love.. sinking self within.. Umbrella
breaks.. of sweat of reign outside.. Umbrella
sees in love outside.. when connecting
heArts dew rain..:)
Dedicated to a child born 18 years
ago.. who still lives
in the song
Tonight is my 61st Rave Dance Week Celebration..
and as an ongoing documenting process..
more fun photos of dance coming
sometime after dance
with all the cool college
age folks at Old Seville
FREE VERSE poetry is
Not a word
and dance DOES