A butterfly Emerging The silken veil of her cocoon Pieces of it Are clinging to her wings Like sleep. She becomes aware That’s she’s not what she used to be. She has wings. The ground no longer holds self-consciousness for her. The air No longer is her restraint. The sky She’s no longer shy of […]
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Call Winter a road if you will, a Silk Road of a sort, like I do.I love the winter snow,and all the children do with it.And in the same, childlike way, Winter’s a passage for me. Solitudinous.An escape through silence, science, sculpture, scripture, and all the other forms of art.A passage through darkness and discovery
There are In the night Those who light A path For other feet To follow.
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Life when it meets Death Sees all the colors of the rainbow, fire, earth, water, and air Red most of all Swallowed, diminished into darkness. And silence. All that are left are the images of the memories of the Good and the Bad The Hopes and the Fears. The Love and the Price to be
The flight of a heron piercing solitude. Thoughts of Love.A Mozart symphony. Nietzsche and Shakespeare. Pondering how,If we are free of the future, why do we sense its finger always upon our pulse?Yeats’ poem to Irish actress Maud Gonne (after her refusal of marriage)Spiraling in my mind: I would that we were, my beloved, white
There’s a Divinity Shapes Our Ends, Rough Hew Them How We Will Read More »
