dapple dancers, hand gliders, cliff dwellers, wind surfers, rainbow warriors, light bearers, fellow sojourners; the passing moon, tide so high there is no beach, rain patters the skylights, and night descends so soon it seems one is deep in the dark before it dawns in the mind--time to kick up ones heels in the open room and let the music begin. there is madness afoot, yes, like a dark Shakespearean play, too much to contemplate, a severe u turn toward colonial times and autocratic tendencies. one sings, one dances, to keep aligned with the tides, the wind, the life giving energies not bound by the machinations mortal men. or to put it another way, "I sing because I'm happy, I sing because I'm free..." bless the earth, the living rocks, the talking clouds, the light in darkness. and as e.e. cummings said: "may my heart always be open little birds, who are the secrets of living, whatever they sing is better than to know..."