Sabbath I Every moment, in the waning sun is christened with the possibility of rest, with the knowledge that another is worthy of the green’s blessing, with the delight of light diffused beneath broad fig leaves. In the garden box bees alight on flowering mint, as sparrows search the undergrowth for something to add to their nest. They never ask. They do not need to— for what is provided, is provided to all in the green’s stillness. The Dancer He said he does not like ballet. But once the camera starts he leaps and turns like the Nutcracker Prince, a rainbow blur of motion and intensity in a Christmas pajama adorned performance. The joy of movement and freedom radiates from his eyes with every turn. Each outstretched arm flourishes a hand reaching for the next possibility. The thump of solidity in a little boy body each landing an announcement: “Here I am!” And though I may have forgotten it there is no mistaking the moment of grace as his feet hit the ground and he wraps his arms around his body closes his eyes and spins, not with abandon, but with the comfort of knowing he is loved.
Sean Felix (he/his/him) is a citizen poet from Washington DC. His first book Did You Even Know I Was Here? was released in 2019, and he’s read with The Inner Loop and Poetry on the Pike literary reading series. He has published poems in Bloodroot Lit Journal, Sunday Mornings at the River Fall Anthology, and Beyond the Veil’s Mental Health Poetry Anthology and the Haiku Society of America’s Mentorship Student Anthology. Sean is a haiku poet, who practices a meditative practice of creating haibun from haiku. Listen to his podcast recording for The Inner Loop Radio, Taking Back Time, on Soundcloud or iTunes. Visit his website or follow him on Instagram.
Image: The Bee Dance – Die Bienentanz-Skulptur, Hohen Neuendorf bei Berlin by Sludge G under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic license.