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