Old and New

Sometimes I find the need to renew my acquaintance with art or poetry created in the past. Old art, old words can find renewal by combining them with a more current creative form. The painting behind my elderly face is one of my earliest experiments with color, while my passion for photography is fairly new. My expression is also current, though the soul that motivates the life is timeless. The poem below is from the eighties, but was recently revived for my performance with my younger dancing partner, Summer: Movement is Born. 

I truly love - what I can never truly grasp.
For me - dance is ephemeral -
Existing out of briefest moments -
Flying out from immediacy.
And I am that immediacy.
Bound - I am rebounding.
Leaning into temporal states - I am set free.
My temporal state contains my weight -
In flesh and muscle - bony frame amassed
Around the circle of my breath.
Released - the circle turns and flows -
Involving mass immediately surrounding.
Movement is born.
Not to be contained - each movement gives itself -
Kissing the air and vanishing - forever free.
I cannot think - that what brings joy now -
Must be caught up - insuring me of future joy.
For I am changing -  turning -
With each breath I take - to new beginnings.
Forward - into the midst of turmoil - let me pass -
For I am not alone. 
And you - will you come too -
To let your breath roll over edges -
Lose your balance - and regain - begin again?
You will come too.
Now you and I - we are the saviors of ourselves.
And none can grasp our movement - pin it down -
Nor analyze its unique form.
In truth - it has no form -
Unless that form be truth.
So shall we dance?