suddenly...but really, the path is always unknown...
suddenly....but really, the mystery of when, how, what next - that mystery matters
suddenly...so much is connecting to so much else....
this solstice of gratitude
the dance emerges as speech as song as rune as story
the film becomes memory reimagined
becomes sitting around a table with kindred spirits who want their own mystery
who want to sing too
in serving this light that calls to you
or the dark for that matter
something emerges that only you can live..
that story under the skin
indigenous to the species
particular to you
humming under the breath
Sit across the table from the beloved
call the flowers by name and they will
si pudiera decirte lo que se siente, no valdria la pena bailarlo.
if I could tell you what it feels like
it wouldn't matter to dance it
kehta hai kaun nalaay bulbul ko be asar
who says the song of the nightingale has no effect
parde mein gul ke lakh jigar chaakh ho gaye
look closer in the garden, see the flower, the petals torn into a thousand tatters..
ghalib in the garden
always there is someone in the garden
it was understood in Mongolia
that it matters to take the time
to sit under
the flowers and call their scent
I remember he was a grandfather
and he had a thousand cattle
that's how he was introduced to me
may you call to you what seeks to bloom
may it bloom
may it bloom