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You could look at that roiling cloud and think,
Sat, August 1, 2009 - 5:41 PM
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this is the shape of the sky and you wouldn’t be wrong – foreboding drawing the edges of the world over a landscape that seems to cower, the orange light that peeks through undulating peaks and troughs only a foil for the storm that will fall. Forewarned is not forearmed. Who can face a sky that size and weight? What shelter can withstand the flood that will fill the world? A fullness so large it is void. We stand before thi... read more
Is this a sprint or a marathon?
Sat, August 1, 2009 - 5:40 PM
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Either way, I'm tired to the bottom of my boots and the road is still there ahead and behind unyielding pavement meant for a car solid under our still-singing feet Alexander himself never conquered what we will conquer -- apathy, pride, hunger, retribution, fear. Most thorny, that last, but 'round it we'll plant nodding onions and purple broccoli we'll sprout songs and germinate jokes we'll compost our anger and misgivings until the soil a... read more returning home through still-dancing sunrise after-image of human lightflow pulse warm on the retina in the garden a crow caws five times silent I call out with this brother of the morning eat ten snap peas straight from the vine and two ripe strawberries how many miracles can the joyful spirit contain? one in a life is enough but two – if two then myriad uncountable nothing but love has no opposite eat drink see play love under elaborate pleasure agony bouquets the bare soil of life is only this passion without cause
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