the white show!

So, that last poem, won't help me at all, for this show. Boo, I so burn to write that brilliant poem. Universal, and uplifting in that most sacred way. Transmuting real life into the lessons into art. Tactile Cuiing is such a one: it always tickles me when i hear people using the term like it's already a given Tactile Cuiing :

“tactile cuing”

my therapist

the one who’s focus are my feet and legs

my ambulation

he says ‘tactile cuing’ is ok

suggests, I seek it out

to help me maneuver the space

as I try walking ‘toe to heel’ up the hall

that simple act of laying a finger

along that yellow wall

as I move forward

keeps me steady

graceful

upright

last night

at the party

I ‘maneuvered’ the space

felt free

supported by my friends

and the certainty of

lovingness

strung out like

vines for swinging

from hand to shoulder

waist to arm

eye to smile

felt cued in

I wonder this morning

as I hurry to my yoga class

if pitching forward, down the hill,

I’d roll down to the bay?

no, I’d probably just skin my chin

wonder if the person crossing this path,

down ahead would be offended,

if I asked for her shoulder to cue

would she offer her arm with a smile

or shake me off scowling

wonder if the world

would be better

if we remembered

‘tactile cuing’ is ok?

isn’t it?

mefr 11/15/04

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