The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up, as if orchards were dying high in space. Each leaf falls as if it were motioning “no.”
And tonight the heavy earth is falling away from all other stars in the loneliness.
We’re all falling. This hand here is falling. And look at the other one. It’s in them all.
And yet there is there’s One, whose hands infinitely calm, holding up all this falling.
— Rainer Maria Rilke (translation by Robert Bly)
The seed of life is within us all, our dance here is mundane, strange and wonderful.
A winter solstice 2020 short stream for a Movement Medicine community
Meanwhile, someplace in the world, somebody is making love and another a poem.
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