In midlife I was lucky to be swept up
by currents of luxurious wind which
loosed my mind and freed my body
for senseless sensual play –
ecstatic dance.
a flight of blackbirds
wing dance
on waves of winter wind
flit
fly
dart
dodge
glide
through the difficult branches
of bare trees
then soar
caught on an updraft
I cannot see
but only know because
I watch their feathered
bodies
flock fling upon it
scatter . . . form
disperse . . . reconvene
atom with atom
bird with bird
the shape-shifting
dance of life
2014