observations from improvisation and Maria Pappova
my body is earth/ earth is my body
I move me/ I move earth/no, earth moves me
moving us...
this isn't it. it's freer
like moving dirt between my fingers and toes
or air like breathe on and in me
breathing in slow and sometimes fast
and water like blood pulsing through me like waves
in the ocean and fire as the heat sweating as my body
moves/is moved
Moving earth, I move to somehow love, touch, caress
earth
I move to love earth and somehow I feel the earth over back
to hold me
in her natural containment. this body, this planet. round
limitless containment of elements and spirits.
a freedom and a holding that leads to know
and not know freedom
somehow we let go, crumble and crumble and crumble
because our love holds us from all sides it grounds us
like gravity. like my hips, my torso moving in circular patterns
I feel the temperature of the air and the layers of warmth
provided by the sun pulsing through leaves to my skin
to the earth beneath me making shadows
We (the earth and me) are in a moment a kind of oneness
that isn't oneness at all
but a varied, messy and shifting thing
yet constantly in this thing called body and the thing called earth
really, its just a movement, a gesture that asks to be with both
to hold and give space- to love
and permission for both to be and to change and to grow, naturally arises
I have gratitude that all I need to do is to move feet, bone and listen
to the earth unfolding herself to me, to us.
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