the over-flowingness
Is not to be contained,
Fixed and predictable by boundary.
“I am she.”
The river running.
And so she is.
It has the song of water
&
The song of water flowing .
Wind
&
Next door’s Poplar tree.
Stepping closer to the edge
So the heart runs faster,
Solace and empty hands.
The gradient arcs outward
Tight stretching the muscles,
Transforming in the unfolding.
Fire Song:
Fire Song:
Stone Being giving birth to the new
Twist from one to other
Separate to expectation,
Then burn the barns
Trash the crops
Make your new home, home.
Air song:
Wherein the tenderness,
The grace of person
When no divide exists?
Slow standing, still breathing
Counting the pinpricks of light-
Winter’s unwinding tokens fall.To follow this blog: the 'Follow by E-mail' facility is now operating. Don't miss a beat and sign in. Also do not forget to try: http://www.newpages.com/blogs/writers-blogs.htm
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