Notes from today (arrows to poems?):
The whale says, now my head is between trees instead of water
Blackberry blackness and the whale chatter of birds in Iowa
What we have is the summer, to change in
and the dreamtime urgency of bumblebee
Walking away, I will just nod my head lovingly and say I see I see, I see that you are feeling this way. . .
The roots are praying for something as they grow down, seeking
I love lumbering things
I only know where things begin, not where they were before
This whale I'm becoming! if I try hard and close my eyes--
Soften soften--
I want happiness but it will a new kind, kind that comes after difficulty and fire and troubles.
Every single person's belly is rising and falling as they rest like birds asleep on the earth, in a crook of earth
in the book of hours a translucent wing pasted to each page
No comments:
Post a Comment