As I moved this morning, this was born …

This body, the Earth.

I begin with a dance,
A more upbeat one my music
shuffle list comes up with.

I have no idea what will come.

This track emerges,
slower, the sounds of daily life
perhaps in a village far away.

I begin.

I do not know what will come.

I stretch and move and soon…
The images arise.
I am there in that village.
I am those sounds.
They move through my body.

I touch the Earth.

I touch the Earth.
I find a great tenderness.
So great it touches my heart
deeply.

Something about the children singing.
Something about the everydayness of it.
Something about the birdsong,
The buffaloes, the rain.

This Earth.

This Earth.

I touch the Earth.
I touch my body.

This body,
The Earth.

I am made of it. 

I feel such tenderness
And tears.

Tears of a mixture of awe,
Of longing, of sadness,
Of Love.

This body,

The Earth.

I am made of it.

At once in my living room,
And another in this far off place,
Where these things happen every day.
Where my bare feet touch the Earth,
Where children sing.

My movement is slow.
I move my hand up my body,
As I pass my throat the tears lift to
My eyes.

My body,
The Earth.
I am made of it.

Hayley 16th May 2016

Music: African Dream by Shaman’s Dream