Wind tries to show Tree how to run wild.
Tree: “I cannot leave this place.”
Wind: “Then let’s dance.”
dancing
Meant-to’s
Stifling an urge to dance is bad for your health — it rusts your spirit and
Don’t just sit there
If life is good, don’t just sit there — dance!
If life’s not so good — dance even more.
Praying hands & feet
It is of course possible to dance a prayer.
Little thriving without roots
Live for the roots
Love the green
Dance with the blossoms
Work hard & shine!
Sometimes the universe tosses out handfuls of glittering opportunity. If it falls upon you, dance! Then get right to work.
Marrow
Poetry is the dancing skeleton of
In loss still they dance!
the leaves all dance
to the same breeze —
but some flutter and some fall
some shiver and some sway —
and when a gust comes
they lose themselves —
but are no less beautiful
on the ground, where resting
they still yet dance, but free
Two A.M. drops
dancing in the rain
at nature’s cloudy party
Girl-heart
her smiling girl-heart danced
behind the grey, grey hair
scrambled blackout poetry created from Enid Bagnold,
Tap dance
Author: a dancer of typewriter keys.
Stages
Spring is a lively swing towards summer
Summer is a hot salsa towards autumn
Autumn is an elegant ballet towards winter
Winter is a slow waltz towards spring
XXXI
My stiff-spread arms
Break into sudden gesture;
My feet seize upon the rhythm;
My hands drag it upwards:
Thus I create the dance.
I drink of the red bowl of the sunlight:
I swim through seas of rain:
I dig my toes into earth:
I taste the smack of the wind:
I am myself:
I live.
The temples of the gods are forgotten or in ruins:
Professors are still arguing about the past and the future:
I am sick of reading marginal notes on life,
I am weary of following false banners:
I desire nothing more intensely or completely than this present;
There is nothing about me you are more likely to notice than my being:
Let me therefore rejoice silently,
A golden butterfly glancing against an unflecked wall.
—John Gould Fletcher (1886–1950), “XXXI,” Irradiations, 1915