
artwork from notebooks,
inspiring movement and curiosity...
© 2022 by Uzma Taj
red signs at the bus stop
a rabbit rushed through the field
traps changed his landscape
the path he walked was sealed

—I have something to say
said a voice from
a living room sofa
the voice was too small
too quite
roar said a kind man with an
oak tree as a heart
a minute lasted a whole life time
old Grandmas hung from thin cotton threads...

memories weaved in warm blankets
heavy, to hold places where dreams are made

I was there
the warmth of Love,
…...Her explosive nature flooding us all
to the sound of Ney.
the fierce rush of an Ocean,
…….crushing the Metal of their bones

mevlana, mevlana, mevlana
the trees, the trees, the trees
the sky, the sky
and mother, Mother Earth
and me.
oh rose, oh rose, oh rose
ancient but only a mere moment on Earth
you are me and I am you
and in the hold of Movement
I am still

she’s waking
thundering hooves
the sound you could never place
behind your rib cage
ripping,
the shredding of old things
and alive
fresh
like a winters kiss
Fear is begging for time
as her smile
breaks the world

I left it hanging in the air
it was easier
like forgotten jeans on a washing line
he asked for an answer
I let it wait

A distance of 3mm’s
I measured it.
I thought, it’s only 3 mm's,
I would make it fit.
Unfortunately it began to make a lot of difference.
When it rained you could not see.

dusty pink lipstick,
colours of the Divine.
Highlighted skin, with cheeks of rose,
who is this women imitating Your dance?
