There are ever-expanding Circles that I am part of. Some encompass just you and me. Others? The whole race. I long to be part of that more Giant whole and often sense The grace in that. Other times, that global circle Is too much abstraction and I long only to join with you In mutual […]
In the late 1980’s, I left my former profession and moved to California to “do music and nothing else”. Just saying that was not enough. I quickly found out that I had to pay the bills. And those California bills were considerably more costly than the ones I had left behind in Texas. At many
Rapids rush downstream, much as a life Does. Fleeting and flowing at each different Turn. Neither fleet nor flow pauses much Except When it gets caught in the boundaried edges of Channel And shore. There, it swarms in eddies of swirl and Even Backwards currents. No longer — for the moment — Hurling And hurtling
I’ve been an advocate of adult play for many years. Since befriending Phil Porter, who co-founded InterPlay with Cynthia Winton-Henry, this advocacy took on new meaning for me. Today, I want to share a few resources that I think have potential for providing you with some of your daily requirements of play. I’ll suggest five easy
I swear I thought of it first. But I’ll never be able to prove it. Well, actually, I don’t think I thought of it first. I just had it as an idea for a blog and didn’t act on it. In the meantime, there’s been another ground-swell of interest. In what? In getting into nature
Just a suggestion: Maybe just for a moment You could smile. Doesn’t matter if it’s On the inside or the out. I am simply knowing that The lack of smiles is Making my insides sad. With this poem, I profess That the rest of this day Will be one big smile Of love for the
The bass player’s fingers are doing A tiny, delightful dance; Rollicking and frolicking under The soloing ivories. He knows how to find The rhythm and pitch that Blend to perfection; Interweaving interplay. Far from the dance of two Left feet: this is the spontaneous Movement that flows from soul To soul – his, yours, mine, ours.
When warm (Or even temperate) Rain raps on the roof, It provides a reassuring Rhythm that soothes. When Winter-chilled rain Taps it’s icy fingers on Window panes, It does not soothe nor Reassure. ~ spontaneously composed by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011 by muz4now, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
I drew stillness From The Deck. Her avatar? A peace sign. Right now, I think my Avatar is A race car. Zipping ahead Without thought For the energy Being consumed Or the loudness Generated. And all this Speed and combustion And noise Is doing so little to Improve on what Was already Here. ~ spontaneously
There is one thing And another. Grey twigs stand upright At ends of limbs. They decorate the also-grey sky As a foreground reminder: No leaves grace these Woodland tendrils. It is as if they are unclothed, Vulnerable and exposed To Winter’s cold. What inner warmth Do they rely on to carry Them through the snow?
