I like when the outside mingles with the inside, dappling...
and when the breath of rain tries
to inhale the space of my inner rooms
and moves me to breathe the deeper rustic
scent of the outer rooms she has just passed through.
beach glass & stone
Everything writes, gestures.
"It is written" is everywhere (in everything) read
it with delight.
Where there falls from the hands of the serving girl
the pale round plate
the colour of clouds
the pieces must be picked up
while the chandelier trembles
in the masters' dining room.
from Jean Follain
Sometimes the day its light and colors on river sky branches, the dolphins passing the birds moving time with their flight, the ripe ripe everything--It spills into the eye. Shattered by this same one serving girl. She has dropped this plate a million times, dropped this day my breath and heartbeat, the light from her fracture trembles through everything--
around your ankles invisible fire, It climbs
to wake us to the grace--a self, being Itself.
After having fallen from the plate, one day's sun sets
Its gestures like ours, never the same.
ok. Do Not go here if you are getting peaceful now:Band of Skulls "Fires" : lyrics
Baby darling doll face honey
I don't mean to cause you worry
its only hands in my pocket...