25
May

Invitation to Life - May 2017

From Dancing Moons, 1995, by Nancy Wood

 

I invite you to life

and you send regrets.

Sorry can't come, too late or

too soon, too busy, too scared,

Too much involved in the business of living.

 

The reasons you give

are a song all their own.

off-key and shallow, with the sound

of avoidance, the rhythm

Familiar, the words echoing the same old excuses.

 

I'll issue no more invitations

to you. The party's been

cancelled, the guests won't arrive

in time to find me having

 

A dance all my own. You see,

 

I invited myself to my life

and finally accepted.

29
Apr

The Beads of Life - April 2017

From Dancing Moons, 1995, by Nancy Wood

 

The space between events is where

most of life is lived. Those half-remembered moments

of joy or sadness, fear or disappointment, are merely

beads of life strung together

to make one expanding necklace of experience.

 

The space between events is where

we grow old. From sunrise to sunset one day lives

as another day emerges from the fluid womb of dawn,

the first bead strung upon

the everlasting thread of life.

 

The space between events is where

knowledge marries beauty. In quiet reflection

we remember only the colored outline of events,

the black and white of war, the rosiness

that surrounded our first love.

 

The space between events is why

we go on living. The laughter of a child or

the sigh of wind in a canyon becomes the music

we hear expanding in our hearts each time

we gather one more bead of life.

30
Aug

All of My Life is a Dance - August 2016

From Many Winters, 1974, by Nancy Wood

 

All of my life is a dance.
When I was young and feeling the earth
My steps were quick and easy.
The beat of the earth was so loud
That my drum was silent beside it.
All of my life rolled out from my feet
Like my land which had no end as far as I could see.
The rhythm of my life was pure and free.
As I grew older my feet kept dancing so hard
That I wore a spot in the earth
At the same time I made a hole in the sky.
I danced to the sun and the rain
And the moon lifted me up
So that I could dance to the stars.
My head touched the clouds sometimes
And my feet danced deep in the earth
So that I became the music I danced to everywhere.
It was the music of life.
Now my steps are slow and hard
And my body fails my spirit.
Yet my dance is still within me and
My song is the air I breathe.
My song insists that I keep dancing forever.
My song insists that I keep rhythm
With all of the earth and the sky.
My song insists that I will never die.

31
May

Be a Warrior of Small Wars - May 2016

From War Cry on a Prayer Feather, 1979, by Nancy Wood

 

Be a warrior of small wars

Accustomed to small praise

For honesty and do not fight

For the sake of attainment.

Build a house of solid thoughts

A fortress of introspection

Feed and shelter all who enter

Protect and not possess them.

 

30
Apr

The Old Man Born of Dreams - April 2016

From Spirit Walker, 1993, by Nancy Wood

 

You must not be afraid to travel

where there are no roads.

You must not give in to the darkness

when there is no sign of light.

You must not be afraid to grow wings

when you are tired of the ground.

You must not be afraid to swim

when you are nothing but a stone.

If experience is the child born of risk, then

acceptance is the old man born of dreams.

 

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