4:44 am
Young man I see your aligned spine
Straight as the day is narrow.
Your step vibrant and strong.
To my fault I see your forgotten memories,
The childhood tilts as an airplane,
The spins that set your mind right.
I wish for you and me the play of the diving Crow, the Bear cub, the Dolphin.
We could at least prepare for the unexpected slight that one day takes our breath away.
4:53 am
Young child I see your memory fade away.
There was a time when we all danced and sang with you hours upon hours
Our camping fires flickering the night with delight.
Our joy burst from us and joined on a path that knew no bounds.
So much harder it is now for you to touch the precious in yourself
And even harder to say, yes life is for living and I am life.
Tim Hurst 12/12/17
4:56 am
Young dancer I see you moment by moment opening memory,
Memory of the curious, asking of the moment to open.
I am inspired by each surprise you find behind each asking.
I wish for you and for me to move in agility until all our memories open.
Tim Hurst 12/12/17
5:02am
Young worker sitting at your arduousness, I see you.
Yes your body complains year after year kindergarten or CEO.
Sitting may as well be called stilling because we and even our meditators
Instill a force upon ourselves to sit still.
Of course there is a purpose of stillness, to move our thoughts, or our fingers.
To my fault I see the cascading memories of movement fade away each moment. Gone is the memory of our selves as continuous and agile movement like music, like a dance.
Tim Hurst 12/12/17
5:15 am
The breath of the singer is a study of agility.
Wish that I and we could open in like anticipation
Of the beauty we can find within.
Our bodies would know the memory of a yawn
That opens every cell in preparation for so much oxygen.
We would again welcome a lifting of ourselves
While spreading our ribs and wings to make space for breath.
We would remember that each breath awakens toes and nose.
We would remember the thankfulness of heart and chest rising like meeting the sun.
Our throats would open as would all the openings surrounded by our collar bone.
All the breath we have welcomed will rush through raising soft palates, bringing a surprise Ah to our throats. Our backs become new born freshness with breath expanding our edges.
At the top of breath we peak at what the next moment can be, rollercoaster or glider. At these moments all cells speak with movement, nasal passages quiver, third eye’s nurture, cranium bones prepare to release geysers of life from their top most joints.
All this is the life of one breath for the singer. We sit and wait for a rendering of sound vibrations revealing this one singer.
Tim Hurst 12/12/17