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Rob
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Clark Little's Crashing wave on sand
The story is abut a little wave, bobbing along in the ocean, having a grand old time. He’s enjoying the wind and the fresh air – until he notices the other waves in front of him, crashing against the shore. “My God, this terrible”,the wave says. “Look what’s going to happen to me!”
Then along comes another wave. It sees the first wave, looking grim, and it says to him: “Why do you look so sad?” The first wave says: “You don’t understand! We’re all going to crash against the rocks! All of us waves are going to be nothing! Isn’t it terrible?”
The second wave says: “No, you don’t understand. You’re not a wave, you’re part of the ocean.” Via Vladimir Prelovac
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Rob
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I wrote this some years ago for kids…
CATERPILLER PIE
Caterpillar pie! Caterpillar pie!
We’re all having caterpillar pie!
In the middle of the night–when the moon was high
We gathered round the old pig’s sty.
There was Terry Raccoon and Billy Baboon,
Uncle Tommy Turtle and Larry the Loon.
Caterpillar pie! Caterpillar pie!
We’re all having caterpillar pie!
Bess the dog, Murdock the cat,
Young Willie Worm in his best tall hat;
Shelby Snake brought a soggy old shoe,
That was dropped in my drink by Katie Kangaroo!
Caterpillar pie! Caterpillar pie!
We’re all having caterpillar pie!
Millifred Millipede did the can-can
With Silky Sally, the royal Afgan.
When Clarence the Calf leapt over the lake,
Craydad Willie did a doubletake.
Caterpillar pie! Caterpillar pie!
We’re all having caterpillar pie!
Wee Mole Mike is hanging loose
With Horn Head Bob–the big bull moose;
Stinkbug Billy is asking why
Kerry Caterpillar is baking a pie!
Caterpillar pie! Caterpillar pie!
We’re all having caterpillar pie!
Grits in my gravy, rocks in my socks,
Ol’ Hog Piggers is watchin’ his hocks.
Party’s hot–we’re swinging on…
Everybody’s grooving and waiting on…
Caterpillar pie! Caterpillar pie!
We’re all having caterpillar pie!
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Rob
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[This story I wrote in 1983, in Tasmania, for a contest the Australian Broadcasting Commission was having. Each week, some of the stories were read over the air.]
The night had been long. Once, when the contractions were still far apart, we wandered outside arm-in-arm to stand under the forest trees. Starlight had filtered through their branches, and the moon just edging above the eastern mountains had flooded our valley in silver. The nightlife had accepted our presence and resumed their chatter. Down on the lake, geese called, almost quietly, to each other. The rustlings in the bush were our friends, who occasionally visited the cabin if a window or door was left ajar. I savoured the crispness of the night air.
As we stood leaning against each other, I could not help but begin to relax, though the knot in my stomach would not completely dissolve. As an owl screeched in the distance we had slowly picked our way back to the cabin.
But now….she was so tiny, this little one. I untangled the cord from her body, and placed her face down on Shona’s belly. Elation was slowly filtering through me as I carried on with the aftermath of the birth. I heard it also in Shona’s voice as she crooned softly to the newborn, her fingers massaging gently the infant back.
As I worked, I was aware of many things quite clearly without giving my direct attention to them; Zamphir’s pan pipes from the stereo–Shona’s favorite background music; the three scented candles—now almost stubs—burning on the bedside table; the merry crackle of pine logs from the fireplace; dawn sun warming the wall to my left; the smell of jasmine and new birth; of the absence now, of any tension in the room; of the shared warmth and quiet amazement that had taken its place.
So very tiny. I lifted the sleeping little body and immersed it slowly int he basin. She smiled then, as I sponged her, and her eyes opened. For moments then, Sharon Rose studied the movements of her hands, obviously enjoying her new life. Her eyes drooped, and finishing her bath, I dried her and took her, wrapped in the towel to sit on the side of the bed. Again, little eyes opened. This time they looked directly into mine with an openness I’d not have thought possible. Then, with great deliberateness, she turned her head to study Shone.
From the bushes beyond the window, an early morning songfest erupted.
Winner ‘Story of the Week’ prize.
Winner 3rd Grand Final Prize.
Published with other winners by the ABC in the booklet “The Story Teller.”
When I wrote it, it felt like it was a true story… that it had actually happened to me in another lifetime, or different dimension. It still feels that way, altho some of the details I’m certain came from this life….
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Rob
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Stories of how people discovered their way fascinate me. Leslie Zehr’s drew me for the recounting, but also for her subject matter… dancing Mother Earth’s energy… and thus our energy.
“I came upon this experience by “chance.” One evening I was dancing and noticed that as I moved around the room I could feel different energy patterns emanating from the ground. Curious, I continued to move around the room. I realized that I could “dance the room.” I then did this with music as well and realized that every wave pattern was present in the music. It became easy to coordinate the energy pattern emanating from the room with the music and the movement. In this case, the energy pattern was the guide as it lead me through the space. The possibilities are infinite.”
That, and the following, are available here.
“For anyone who has not danced with the Universe, it is a beautiful and creative experience. Training will elevate the experience but anyone can peek behind the curtain. Just find some primal, tribal, heavy drum music; turn off the lights; and, like the bat, just follow your radar and fly!”
Those quotes are from an article she published on another site. I had hoped to see them in her new book “The Alchemy of Dance”, but she does share other bits of how she came to dance the earth. Leslie introduces the hows of earth dancing… clearing the body to run earth energy. She makes it so easy one wonders how we ever forgot this essential ingredient of our lives. For me the book and her work are very heartworthy.
I had never thought of earth dancing the way Leslie describes it. Whilst her aim is assisting women in rediscovering their earth connection and their bodies thru dance, I’ve learned quite a bit from her writings. The males among us might well broaden horizons reading thru her material. I’ve come across nothing similar for us guys. Her site is www.universaldancer.com and The Alchemy of Dance seems to be available thru major booksellers.
This post is duplicated under the page Recent Readings.
