by Daria Halprin
Poetry for students and clients June 2011
* ahhh the beauty of you weeping willow, lyrical and steady, swinging tenderly with wisdom wounds in the winds. I want to sit under you, embrace you, feel your willows woven into my rib bones, and gaze into the waters of life through your branches ~ ahhh, you are beloved.
* red, simmering, glimmering, translucent, heart beating , Venus unfolds herself and rises, you shooting star, trust worthy and entrusting, the power of you is on the rise, you are full mooning yourself, and I plan to howl under your light!
* come dance with her and she will take you across some amazing universes that would have cost you a fortune to get to on your own. She is a WOW! An anything can be danced into being wowwoman, she dances into feeling, into changing, into the heart of who she is and who we are – dissolving, becoming, divine.
* take a look at mind telling it’s story in movement, take a look at past transforming into present, take a look at disappointment, fear and rage shaped like clay in the sculptor’s hands, her raw and real beauty, take a look at mind dancing itself into the muscles of our humanness!
* sinew stretches, heart opens, eyes pierce and look up from under the veil she’d worn, spine finds flow, she hyper-extends beyond what she thought were her limitations, her arms and hands cross borders she had been afraid to, she lets all the emotions run through her like blood running through veins, she strikes out and recovers and loves more for it, she is arriving, she is here, and she is with us!
* smile radiates, a shyness, a coyness, an insecurity, and excitement, an ecstasy, he is in full arrival, tears run down his cheeks like streams down the mountainside, cleansing and quenching and real, he is stepping into himself to claim his own territory without defensiveness or malice, like a warrior, like a lover, like a friend, like a true student of the way.
* the bell rings in the temple courtyard, it is her, she is the bell, the ring and the temple, she is the gardener of the grounds, the supplicant and the cherry blossom, she is the wail and rage, the chant and the silence, she is the mother, daughter, wife, she is the calling and the called, quiet in her finery, until she un-sheaths her sword and dances.
* would not abandon, would stay with it until it lives itself out and transforms, persevering through the storm and the drought and the too much and the not enough and the I want to live and the I give up and the I have something to give and you are giving something to me and no, yes, no, we would not abandon you, seeing ourselves in your dance variations as we do, you keep returning, and we do to, and that is so beautiful. We keep giving each-other this returning dance, what else is there!