School of Movement Medicine - Mindfulness in Motion

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Issue: November Newsletter
The Seeds are Ripe

By Hannah Mackay
I’ve been dancing with Ya’Acov and Susannah for nearly 23 years, which is half my lifetime! This year I took part in Initiation for the first time – it felt like the right time to do it. A sense of timeliness feels mysterious but also a strong kind of knowing. I wrote this poem as I was preparing for the workshop. I’ve been home now for a couple of weeks, with a greater awareness of the kinds of seeds that are ripening in me.

The seeds are ripe

The seeds are ripe. It is time.

My mother tree provides for me
a fat round body.
Star inside a circle
small earth drawn to great earth
weight, juice, flesh, I drop.

My mother tree, she covers me
in my spiky puffa jacket.
Green the jacket, white the pockets,
bouncy the landing, joyful the landing
cracking apart or staying whole
opening white or waiting, turning brown.

My mother tree conjures for me
a flying machine. Green wings
I am spinning, spinning, flying, breasting
the wind, down I whirl and down I
circle, spinning, spinning
grass friend rising
landing, splaying wings

My mother tree, she spins for me
gossamer threads
silken drifts
in a tiny cloud I float away
catch and pause and float and
drift and dangle tangle, drift and
drift and drift

My mother tree, she paints on me
nut-brown courage –
a strong shield, an armour.
Branching with my family
brothers and sisters
each tucked inside a coracle,
a strong wind and thundering down we go.

The seeds are ripe. They fall when it is time.

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The views expressed here do not necessarily represent the views of the School of Movement Medicine. Roland Wilkinson, Nappers Crossing, Staverton, Devon TQ9 6PD, UK Tel & Fax +44 (0)1803 762255 http://www.