Whale flying: Rainy night in Lake County in heading in to Harbin
Rainy night in Lake County
in heading in to Harbin ...
Blue moonlight on wet road
illuminating the behind
through the rear view mirror.
I stop for beauty.
Mozart sounds ... what
musical conceptions!
and from long ago,
yet here so now, -
away we go
all over that space
of virtuosity,
I slow in, in wonder,
to Harbin,
soon to soak.
Traveling here,
another poem is coming,
expression finding
flower form
like water traveling
up from ground,
seeking pool to warm
and seep into
all those
inner, bodymind recesses,
that welcome ease
and flourish in.
There's freedom & agency
in writing poems -
to write what one likes,
to sing the song
one wants to,
to fly in the warmth
of word music,
intimate, lyrical & free -
and inhabit those
rosy spheres,
or what you will,
which differs from
the freedoms
of being a Doctor,
a M.D.,
or an Anthropologist,
with their languages.
Exploring other
languages & spheres
is possible
with these knowledges,
but these freedoms
aren't inherent in
knowledges' discourses.
Poetry writing offers
an autonomy -
but by which especially! ...
when you find
your voice
of poetry ...
Snow in the morning -
beautiful snow
on the evergreens
above the creek
over the bridge
to the Conference Center,
out the door of my car,
where I awake,
in quiet, wintery Harbin ...
bodymind music with Harbin.
I see in this falling snow
among the conifers, -
in nature, -
a beautiful philosophy of
Gia-fu Feng's 'Tao te Ching,'
which flourishes
with Jane English's photos ...
Up to the pools
'cause it's cold out,
and the day is alive.
(Edited, posted here in blog, and significantly extended on March 2, 2011)
(http://scott-macleod.blogspot.com/2011/02/whale-flying-rainy-night-in-lake-county.html - February 17, 2011)
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