I am giving time each week to build a path for my heartwork, to express my “oh-my goddess” gene. I spent the morning crafting this poem. Editing is a lot like conscious choice. I mull, sense, listen, align, ask again, know what i know, and let making lead me somewhere new. Here it is.

Is it too simple?

Why do we forget to dance, to

move in mystery, tell stories, rally and sing,

to let laughter, tears, friendship

spring up and shock us.

Peace villages pop

whenever the green hums or a drum

that no dying drugs can ever replace calls up

a promised land of visible joy and truth

and life dances full-out.

Please play hard

in deep dream and dirt to

forge the electric bonds to heal, survive,

transcend, leave legacies, and gift

the children their soul power.

Pay honor. Dance to

free the heart words to spill forth,

sing songs in suffering and celebration and

when love’s truth forgets you,

invoke your bodyways.

Don’t stop there.

InterPlay with Grand Mystery as you

embrace wild grace on her human scale.

Watch doors and windows fly open

See the battered dance again.

Too simple?

Leap dead doubt, despair.

This Body wants to resurrect.

We’ve done it before.

We can play again.

-Cynthia Winton-Henry