we dance at saints.
it might not look like a dance to your average human being because the animals are so crippled.
shit..this morning i am so crippled (the bed buddies welded my pelvis and lower back together with their velcro, keep her immobile, midnight weavings.)
but we do dance...the animals here weave in and out of the core. they take their turns of being the soloist and then fade back into the dancing company to let the next take center stage.
when they get tired and this dance becomes too much to carry on....they, like cole and rose, disappear into the shadowy and quiet wings, content to watch and rest til another, more compelling dance, calls them away.
it is an odd dance here, weaving around mops, buckets, bodies and feet. reaching up not towards the sun, but the ever so soft hands and hearts hovering within reach.
even for those of us that can't dance well, the group gently guides us in our steps. they surround us and move us across the stage, integral in their beautiful dance.
if we let ourselves go and just trust in them, their beauty of movement and being, draws us in.
in those moments, we become beauty in motion with them.
Just took the dogs out for the last pee/poop break.
AND looked at their poop! I'm a poop surveyor!