Sunday, July 3, 2011

frogs, seaweed, birds, shells

After completing a water ceremony at the delta of Oyster Creek just before the sun set, the frogs were croaking loudly in the nearby pond.

The sun had such an incredible golden glow, that I wanted to capture the inner feeling tone of interconnection to this magical place and it's inhabitants with a dance practice.

Connecting here to the earth, the seaweed, the shells, the sun, the birds... with the symphony of frogs to move my spirit into movement of body....


I was walking by. He was sitting there.

It was full morning, so the heat was heavy on his sand-colored
head and his webbed feet. I squatted beside him, at the edge
of the path. He didn’t move.

I began to talk. I talked about summer, and about time. The
pleasures of eating, the terrors of the night. About this cup
we call a life. About happiness. And how good it feels, the
heat of the sun between the shoulder blades.

He looked neither up nor down, which didn’t necessarily
mean he was either afraid or asleep. I felt his energy, stored
under his tongue perhaps, and behind his bulging eyes.

I talked about how the world seems to me, five feet tall, the
blue sky all around my head. I said, I wondered how it seemed
to him, down there, intimate with the dust.

He might have been Buddha— did not move, blink, or frown,
not a tear fell from those gold-rimmed eyes as the refined
anguish of language passed over him.

Mary Oliver

Thank you for viewing my blog... I hope it may inspire you in some way... to dance in the beauty of our natural world...

See our collaborative blog here: Momobutoh Dance Company

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