I dance.

We dance.

This body resistance.

This old man in my sea.

This silent stranger that speaks more with silence than all words.

In youth the old man sleeps.

In mid life the old man rouses my attention.

This body resistance is my inner earth, my gravity.

My soul lites as moths to the lantern.

Our dance flys through morning lit cathedrals

And bells that rise towards the echoed horizon.

Fields of pleasure and pain glimmer through our life dance.

We play, we sleep, we eat, we love.

All the while the body resistance is quiet.

Yet overflowing with the wisdom of the earth, the mountains, the rivers.

This body that loves the dirt and always returns

Yet for a moment we played, we sang, we danced,

And…we died.