Sunday, March 13, 2011

Barach Haba

To balance on one foot

Or to balance on two

Feet like knotted roots

Digging into the ground

One step forward and then to the right

Heel then the toes

 

Step back from the balls, and pop

Here we go

Like trees that break up the concrete

Of sidewalks

 



 

It all comes from the hips

Hardwood center

And the body is a redwood

Don’t move the arms

Let them jive with the rest

Branches don’t move on their own

Hands become heavy

Like boulders or chiseled stones

Ivy vines up and down the arms

Mosses grow wherever exposed



Glide through and back

Up and never down

Water in reverse

On slick onyx

And smoothed quartz-stone

Upstream and not down

Around and around

Like the trunk of a tree

Spiraling up and up and up

But somehow always on the bough

 

Every part of the body has something to say

Some heavier, and some lighter

Hidden memories, stories from many different tomes

Dust covered, and aged

Water damaged or burned

 

If only it were louder

(The body has His wisdom

And He has His own)

It could speak through the noise

But silence is sought for a reason

Like a gemstone or precious morsels of food

Trees need stability

And humans need continuity.

 

Anyone can meditate while sitting

But balancing on one foot

is a story all its own.