poem by Erika Senft Miller  photo by Lydia Kern

poem by Erika Senft Miller

photo by Lydia Kern


To be performed on January 5, 2018, at the grounds of The Vermont Arts Council, beginning at 5pm.

In order for the tree to fall it needs to stand. In order for us to fall we too need to be upright in some form. Being upright requires us to dance with gravity, to align and to commit to the upward movement. The further up we are, the further down we can fall. There is no falling up. If we collapse or brace there is no falling. We then fail to fall.

Trust and attention allows us to yield into falling. Falling is not failing.

Fresh air falling into our lungs - we are inspired.

We fall asleep - no pushing, no bracing, no doing, no tricks, simply falling.

We fall in love. Swipe left swipe right, ultimately no strategy, no posing, no trying, no doing, simply falling.

Leaning into a conversation, a movie, a book, the creative process, life. Leaning forward slightly in order to fall into the next step. That’s how we move forward in life, one step at a time: leaning, falling, catching and up and leaning, falling, catching and forward and up.

Falling in love with life, every step.

In the space and time from when the tree gets cut to when it touches the ground it dances with gravity. There is no controlling or redirecting, no interference, no stopping, no rushing, no doing. It is - time suspended and space in flux.