a poem for sunday and a bike ride to a dance performance

 

 

autumn

 

the leaves fall, fall as from far,

like distant gardens withered in the heavens;

they fall with slow and lingering descent.

 

and in the nights the heavy earth, too, falls

from out the stars into the solitude. 

thus all doth fall. this hand of mine must fall

and lo! the other one:-it is the law.

 but there is one who holds this falling

 infinitely softly in his hands.

by rainer maria rilke (1875 - 1926)

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greg rode a citibike with me downtown. we parked them in the dock by city hall and then i walked over the brooklyn bridge while he visited baxter and worth streets which used to make up the five points neighborhood of nyc.

i was on my way to a dance performance at the mark o'donnell theatre in downtown brooklyn.

i took my bike helmet with me this time . . 

i walked along henry street past amy's cafe (one of my favorites) to atlantic avenue, and then left on smith and two blocks to schermerhorn street. i arrived early (greg had made sure i left with plenty of time) and watched as the seats filled up around me (leaving empty chairs in between pods of friends and family). (once again, everyone had to show vaccination cards and id and wear a mask.) it was a special first live performance since covid for the dancers, and they moved with such depth and beauty . . grace, fluidity and feeling. it was very moving and i especially enjoyed seeing our friend amelia's pieces (one personal choreography and one by isadora duncan, down the hillside to the revels and anima animus). amelia just graduated from montclair state university and i saw dancing that had a deeper strength and understanding. it's profound to witness how our young people grow in new ways.

greg met me afterwards like in the old days (11 pm meetings after thursday night class at dojo on st. mark's place) and we drove home together.