Oh, we sway as the day’s dance pauses in the hum of moon and sun
and some ancient knowing calls us to feast in the now,
in the everydayness of our unearthings.
We stretch and weep and shout, ousting stagnations,
blooming towards the sun as we turn for one more run.
And one more run becomes us
‘til the next sleeping awakens deeper, truer love being,
love showing truth in the face of the dark histories,
and in the aftermath of all that suggests futility
the dance remains,
but we are never the same.
J. Ruth Kelly 
Oh yes. I do like this. I keep reading and re-reading it, soaking in
the phrasing, in the space of worlds within words I hear here.
So rich. A feast for the eyes as well. This photo is perfect.
Thanks, love. I so appreciate the feedback!
Hi 😊 I read your poemthe dance remains, and liked it very much.I wanted to comment, but found it easier to just email. Sooooo, thank you 😊🥀☯️
Sent from Yahoo Mail on Android
Well sir, it seems you did both! 🙂 Thanks for letting me know. I’m glad you enjoyed it.