Seen from behind and above, a person with long gray hair sits on pale granite at the edge of a rushing river, bare back to the camera. One arm arcs over the head and the other reaches open toward the white water. Green trees and boulders fill the background in bright sunlight.photo: Alex Mendo Poem Amma Thanasanti

Dancing Who I Am

Amma Thanasanti

I love to dance.

To be in contact, in presence.
To feel the earth beneath my feet,
the air moving around me,
the water flowing by.

A person with gray curly hair leans back over smooth granite beside a rushing river, one arm curved overhead and the other reaching towards white water rushing behind them.

I love to reach through time and space
and touch the earth in you,
the water in you,
the air and fire that animate you.

I love the attuned yes,
the power of presence,
the flow, spontaneity, and aliveness.

I love the creativity, the play,
never knowing what comes next.
Listening for where there is joy,
pleasure, and the stretch
that opens tight places
and lets the body breathe.

A person with long gray hair and glasses lies back on sunlit granite beside rushing white water, spine twisting so the bent knees fall one way and the head turns the other. Arms stretch wide, bare feet rest on a boulder, and the face is serene. They wear patterned dark pants. A small dark pool with floating leaves sits just below one open hand.
My weight drops into the ground, spine long, arms opening, embracing.

I love nature.
The rocks, the river, the trees.
The sun that makes colors visible.
The light
spills across my body
and breaks into bands
of red, gold, green, violet,
every color pouring
from one clear light.

And I dance the journey of being.
Moving beyond doing and having,
beyond the identity of being a woman,
into the fullness of human BEING,
less constrained by gender,
more inspired by flow.

A person with gray hair leans back over smooth granite beside a rushing river, one arm curved overhead and the other reaching down into a dark, round pool worn into the rock. They wear patterned dark pants and are barefoot, with white water and boulders behind them

A dance in which cancer surgery
became gender-affirming surgery.
The loss of breasts
revealed who I am.

The scars are lines
the light passes over.
My weight drops into the ground,
spine long, arms opening, embracing.
The river flows around me,
always changing.
Nothing to grip.
Nothing to push away.
Here.
No shame.
Flow.

A person with curly gray hair stands by a river in a forest, arms crossed overhead and face lifted toward the sun, bare chest showing flat scars. Sunlight breaks into a blue and green flare that falls across the chest.

(photo credits Alex Mendo @HumanBodies on Instagram)

Die Before You DieA tall, weathered driftwood stump rises from sandy coastal dunes covered in golden grasses. A dark bird soars beside it with wings outstretched against an expansive, clear blue sky.