It’s a slow dance kind of night

It’s a slow dance kind of night 

A sunset don’t fight 

Kind of night 

A let your braids down

and skip to my Lou’s beat 

Kind of night 

Alright flight so high 

Looking up past your nose

To the tip tops of steal 

Poking the sky 

Into the pink purple whisky hue

Kind of night 

A lay in bed and dream 

Of love careening 

Into your lap into swirling 

Curls of a lover’s head

Kind of night 

Morning Dance

Dance gratitude and authenticity flows

Undulating, coursing, bursting through flesh 

Wells of joy, power and freedom from death

Springing from a life danced fully

Moment of Truth

After you jump

But before you fall

You fly

And a million yous are born

And a million yous die

And in that bated breath of time and sky

You decide 

Which of you survive 

Poetry as Definition

The origin of the word “Poetry” comes from the greek word Poiesis or “to make”. Even this definition is poetic as it’s not so much the act, but the verb.

"Martin Heidegger refers to it as a ‘bringing-forth’, using this term in its widest sense. He explained poiesis as the blooming of the blossom, the coming-out of a butterfly from a cocoon, the plummeting of a waterfall when the snow begins to melt. The last two analogies underline Heidegger’s example of a threshold occasion: a moment of ecstasis when something moves away from its standing as one thing to become another."

I kind of like the descriptions here that still require citation.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poiesis

A Quote by Queen Victoria

A Quote by Queen Victoria

Made this the other day.. for those who are curious about how to take down diseased trees.. or just cool stuff like something called a “big shot”. Full coverage on the Ananda Harvest blog.

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