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Oh! How She commands me!
Oh! How She commands me! Every cell and atom quivers and spins to Her. Not a hair can I raise on my forearm but from Her cool breath blowing over my skin, inflating my lungs, and popping my joints alive Like a puppeteer, She dances me away and away; and I laugh in ecstasy…
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“Be,” says it.
You need not command it demand from it, nor fight it in fear. You are but a speck in its Eye floating like dust motes with not a finger on your flight’s— trajectory. You can do nothing but drift in its presence each existing for the other: To see and be seen.
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Lily
I put words to the curls of your pale tresses, speak the stain on your lips, draw a line across your face, separating the eye from its soft lashes, the slick tongue from its parted mouth and the tilted neck from its— unresisting body I name each part of you, as if to set us apart…
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At the edge of sound
Silence is absolute— for every word spoken, every prayer fervently whispered, and every curse flung out to the Wide is met with the enormity of Silence. It says nothing, yet all sounds arise from it, and all sounds die in it. It says nothing, nothing
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If words could set you free
These black lines on white are not bars; if you gaze long enough, you will see the many doorways set ajar ]
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Warm lies.
The world blurs into shimmering blobs of light; they bubble around me, and one by one they go— pop pop— bursting into the cold, dark night The warmth recedes My toes and fingers are cold I am cold so cold
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Forgotten remembrance
I feel you wave in the shadows of dancing leaves, in the shiver of the wild sugarcane, in the quiet scuffle under the bushes and the ripple of a still pond I see your white tail slip out the corner of my eye as if shy but always there, asking, Do you remember me? I open my…
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Autumn rain
The autumn rain falls sleepyon crinkled orange strewn along the path, winding with no certain destination into the far horizon where fire meets fire and the world bursts!
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The word human
I, what is– ‘I’? I call myself the word ‘human’ But, what is human? Not the word but the thing itself? Am I the thing itself? Or that which says this is ‘I’? But, what says ‘I’? What is I? What is I? I, I, I, caw-caw, a crow crows.
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I woke up a honeybee today
I woke up a honeybee today zipped and dunked into sweet lips, a kiss of gold dusting on my skin. I went about my nature with not a question in mind but swirling in movement and sensations, Softness Sweetness Scents and Oh! the buzz and buzz of my countryfolk
MindWraith 