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Post by Prophet on Mar 27, 2011 0:03:02 GMT -8
tHE tEACHERS, tHE tEENAGERS AND I (ME)
I guess that’s all I get, The teachers, the teenagers and me. I’m twenty-five, do you get that? Am I old, or am I young? Am I constantly dying every day, every moment, peeling each layer away, as I keep changing, getting older, reaching that essence core, the true self that is my beating heart? Or am I forever young, constantly bathing in the waters of the fountain of youth, like an immortal angel, pixie or sprite? All I know is that I’m dancing with you all, and we ain’t just friends and community any longer, for you are my family. this is just a big family reunion with brothers & sisters, aunts & uncles, cousins & students & teaches & me. But we’re still dancing, that I know for sure. It’s hot & stuffy & we’re breathing each others' air. We are spinning & clapping & holding hands & pinkies basket holds, & grapevines, rock steps, two-steps & waltzes even; & we are all the students, & we are all the teachers I’m telling you, I look around & I see gods & goddesses quite a few more goddesses, however. I’m twenty five, am I young, or am I old? We’re all getting a little older every moment. tHAt’S what it means to live in time We are dancing, we are trancing time is a river, but where is it flowing? All I know is that when we get there I will still have this moment: that and the teachers, the teenagers & I.
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Post by Prophet on Mar 27, 2011 0:05:07 GMT -8
I wrote this in 2004. I was in an international folk dance class @ SRJC
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