Sense Dance

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