proud nowhere of earth’s most prodigious night blossoms a newborn babe:around him,eyes - gifted with every keener appetite than mere unmiracle can quite appease - humbly in their imagined bodies kneel (over time space doom dream while floats the whole perhaps less mystery of paradise)
mind without soul may blast some universe to might have been,and stop ten thousand stars but not one heartbeat of this child;nor shall even prevail a million questionings against the silence of his mother’s smile
- whose only secret all creation sings
E. E. Cummings 1894-1962
A winter solstice 2020 short stream for a Movement Medicine community
The seed of life is within us all, our dance here is mundane, strange and wonderful.
to fashion universes out of emptiness
Please enter your email and we’ll send you instructions to reset your password