On days like these we are recharged like batteries
Where the bottom of the boat drops and we get this idea that we don’t exist at all,
that tomorrow isn’t promised,
but this show…it must be witnessed between
karma and
zen.
And sometimes,
we belong rewound
in time
Standing on fertile soil
where we plant seeds of
love
Where our newly found souls, match the wing span of angels
Where we take flight
Where our passions make sonnets and we put them on mix tapes
where we explain each song and how we are all under one cloud,

And in this dizziness the show is about to begin,

Rite of Spring Courtesy of Regina Valluzzi © 2012