A Flash of Movement

She was notably rhythmically expressive,
flowing easily, each movement into next.
“Gets it from her father’s kin. 
We were much more fixed firmly on the ground. 
Not to say we didn’t twirl or jig when it was warranted.”
“I’ll just have a cup of this lovely tea, thank you kindly. 
Don’t need to be fretting now about what I might want later.”
We watch the children play; 
almost akin to visiting another world,
one much slower, more real. 
Little beings dancing, rehearsing animal forms,
sharing what they understand.
Older folks seem to have their own ways,
very important, done just so. 
Sensorily attuned to Earth,
swooping big motions, trenchant idioms, the young experiment.
Bodies — first order of business —
our means of experiencing, learning, trying on flexible roles. 
Simplicity, neuron streams relax, incrementally
integrating responses,
building modular collaboration.
She is my avatar, my sacred touchstone. 
She moves as one, as all, as wholly defined
in harmony and synchrony with
ever becoming that she is.
.
.
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