On Tuesday night…
beneath the cathedral
of an oak,
branches curling and weaving,
moved the water in my body
and planted my feet
firmly on the ground of being
immersed in sound…
becoming vibration,
a rhythm
like nothing ever heard before…
molecules dancing
in synch
to the soaring arches
and the cool fog
rolling in from the Pacific Northwest….
becoming nothing,
in everything,
the heart of the beat
in the palm of my hand…



On the eve of July 9th
my long-time friend
and labyrinth colleague Alex Champion
invited us to sit beneath the majestic oak in his yard
and be immersed in a "gong bath,"
six amazing gongs and cymbals played by artist Faye Henry.

Our Earth, PoetryLeaComment