Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point,
there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement.
And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered.
Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline.
Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance."
TS Eliot, 'Burnt Norton'
I love the 'Inner Voice" prompt from OSI this week. One way I pay attention to my own 'inner voice' is by noticing what catches my attention in a certain way -- a scene that causes me to draw in my breath, a poem that lifts off the page. Experiences that catch the soul's attention, and stimulates an inner response, like a wind chime to a breeze....
My offering this week is not my own writing, but a favorite poem excerpt by TS Eliot, paired with a photo ('haiga') I titled, "Still Point'. This image is of one of my 'singing trees', -- a birch that treated me to seasons of birds, light, and leaf shadows that danced on my kitchen table. One foggy, wintry day, as the sun began to break through, illuminating the ice on the branches & leftover leaves (that 'forgot' to fall), I recorded this scene.
