The Wild Dance

These sculptures are set amongst the tall trees in the Sub-Tropical 

Gardens at Abbotsbury in Dorset. I'd like to acknowledge the artists but there are no name plaques on them.

In the aviary there -  two Kookaburras having a private natter....their voices are raucous loud...

I know it's me projecting  this on him but their companion looks really sad, despairing....or maybe resigned and wise..... I hate seeing birds in cages....anything alive - constricted in a cage....

this pheasant too....it feels so wrong  - they should be flying free.

A friend sent me this today....ringing bells for me....wondering how to find my own wild dance...

This is the True Ride
by Jennifer Welwood

[Listen to Audio!]

My friends, let’s grow up.
Let’s stop pretending we don’t know the deal here.
Or if we truly haven’t noticed, let’s wake up and notice.

Look: Everything that can be lost, will be lost.
It’s simple — how could we have missed it for so long?

Let’s grieve our losses fully, like ripe human beings,
But please, let’s not be so shocked by them.
Let’s not act so betrayed,
As though life had broken her secret promise to us.
Impermanence is life’s only promise to us,
And she keeps it with ruthless impeccability.
To a child she seems cruel, but she is only wild,
And her compassion exquisitely precise:
Brilliantly penetrating, luminous with truth,
She strips away the unreal to show us the real.

This is the true ride — let’s give ourselves to it!
Let’s stop making deals for a safe passage:
There isn’t one anyway, and the cost is too high.

We are not children anymore.
The true human adult gives everything for what cannot be lost.
Let’s dance the wild dance of no hope!