Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Sense Dance


In the early morning light of spring
The birds sing
Just because they sing
It is a chorus of angels

Warmth blended with taste of coffee
Enlivens my tongue
With memory of last nights dinner of Eastern rice,
Cooked by brown Asian hands,
Vegetables from earth’s home
Sweet red pepper grown from heirloom seed of Guatemala
Gracing shrimp from southern seas.
The gifts of the world slide
Across our tongues
All connected in that first cup of fragrant coffee
From Brazil
Sitting in my hand made wooden chair
Designed by ancestral mountain folk, my bare feet solid on cool concrete
Formed from what was a once sacred mountain
My prayer blanket wraps me in the warmth of remembrance of drums and singers moving in a dance circle of honor to life
                                     A blanket placed around my shoulders
The direction of my path forever changed with blessing

The morning sun lights up the greening earth
Tickling the scrapbook patches of the autumn oak leaves waiting to be mulched to feed growing plants
A friend’s smile breaking into laughter brings a smile to my own face
The covey of old growth oaks in their wisdom are watching us
Bringing forth their feathery blessing of new life pollen
The whole earth is smiling in this sunlit morning
No clouds in the eternal blue sky where a red tail hawk is flying

Across the valley, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee is dancing with the musky smells of earth, faint sweetness of spring flowers , a hint of wood smoke from last night fires, all leading the way across the trail of  my awareness
In the morning of this emergence once more of my awakening senses, my body self is born again in tranquility, renewal, balance and energy
Living the medicine wheel that I built from stones with my own wrinkled hands

Anne Clement. The Wordweaver at Singing Stones

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