School of Movement Medicine - Mindfulness in Motion

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Issue: May 2013 Newsletter

By Benedict Goldsmith
I am a planet unknown and known. Ocean-wrapped, star-loved, sky-held

Moving in my rhythms of ocean-cradling, and in the dance whose song is heard as silence.

Beloved from afar am I and sweetly singing my songs of time-

Held in the light of memory and like a memory in space-like the unforgotten,

And awake in the voidful sleep which is time…..when he is blue, like space, in the vision of Love.


Passing through time am I, a child held in the blue, the warmth of space

And I a memory, a presence, a possibility, wise-awake in the encounter of reality adream.

Rounded like a babies sleep and falling into wisdom.

Who is greater than time and held by the roar of the invisible sun.


Unknown am I and held in the blue of the mother of waters -

Cradled in the motion of Time or of Space whose dance is to music  unknown.

Unknown or unremembered and voiced in the mutterings of praise

Of those and of the lips of those who silent join the dance of the many worlds.


And I and we in secret are dancing the dance: the unknownhood of She:

 The planet who I am at heart. Sometimes is she cradled

 Amid the singing waves of the ocean of her mystery!

And appears as a gowned sister amid the misty gentleness of music

And the moon is She when seen to rise

Naked above the waves with all her craters of blue magic

And the birds of her sacred isles who caw around her- the birds of  the sky

Teeming around the island of the moon when known by day.


And the moon is an image of she, whose images are her presence

Gentle amid the sky of mournful rest.

Upon the surf of the high waves in their stillness- and in the intense dawn

-like a sister dwells she on the stillness of the  waters

Of her motion as we rock in the dance of consummation

Falling through the many worlds into our planet of the heart.



Who can imagine the countlessness, the vastness of the flocks of She

Whose scream is darkness? Who can imagine the darkened broods of she

For whose fecundity the vision of her face is held forever in the  future?

We see or glimpse the geese... from whence do they fly?

Who can imagine her caves of birth?

Of she who is the mistress of Space.  Of mighty Space who hears her moans

From his dark throne of the heart and feels her tides of yesterdays.


I dance the planets, and all are She who appears in the form 

Of Saturn with his rings of crimson reticence or as mercury

Or as the sunset-sun or as a globule of red blood

.....orbiting unto the lower rim.


Or as the moon when seen amid bird-voices of the waters,

A child of the sky not yet a daughter of  vast space

……… And a bride to  the unheard earth-moans.

 For the men- they are born from her caves of moan: they hear the sound of the stars!

Naked are they and cave-born- they hear the stars in their silveriness!

Yet they hear not the earth-moans in her birth travails

Which are heard only by her Sister who is  Darkness!


Of wild, wide waves and sky-soft in unconceived of curves of voiceless rhythm:

To heavy dreams of flute; to piercing drum-a lusty ocean

Creature- coy is the dance of secret heart and fearful trust

 -The broken harmony of tone, of rolling worlds which are  the World.

Which appears as it wills…..on waves, in wistful places …. and in landscapes of the past re-met.


She - the mother, Like my mother invisible..  the mystery of the mystery.

Metaphors of She who isn't known but in which we dwell:

Revelations of she in a gown of white, or goddess-grey

Amid wistfulness of mist; on close or distant- blackened hills

On crests of childhood or  sunset-fire, how and where  she will,

And soft-embodied in the evening or glad notice of the child,

Unexpected as a sister or a  maiden mother.

Or lingering upon a coyly playful wave in burning stillness.

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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.