We abandon the paper cut-outs
and start to work with the real thing:
The dimensions are astonishing —
we could take years just reveling
in these curves, these planes, these hollows
to say nothing of movement
and that amazing contiguity
that remains itself while changing form
minutely and infinitely, the very breathing of it,
let alone the leaps and curls
and then there is the blessed heat,
the contact
and the wind-engendering spins
This has nothing to do
with where we were playing before.
Our hearts race to be here,
we keep waking up, more and more.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 25, 2015
