on promises

Do not hold me
To any promises down the road
I have surrendered my life
to an inner Love, who moves and pulses
shimmers and weaves
To the music of some Mind’s ear . . .

I must follow the Dance.

Hear me with your heart,
Feel me with the caring caress of
cool mountain water over weary feet-

I am coming to know who I am
behind name, behind concept, behind role.

This movement that I am; a Mysterious pattern
that longs and longs to express itself in the world
speaks a language in which I’m not yet fluent

It is the language of stars, and mud, of wind and water.
I must be still to learn its poetry

To be in this Dance is my deepest yearning
Each of us has her own.
When we listen and move from this Source
Then souls dance together
And promises have no meaning.

The Dance by ~ Kinde Nebeker ~

published in westwords, animas valley institute

photograph taken near el acebo, camino de santiago


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