
And the Music From the Strings No One Touches
“Inside this clay jug there are canyons and pine mountains….”
“Inside this clay jug there are canyons and pine mountains….”
“I am running from every corner of this world and sky wanting to kiss you…”
“How clear it is that stones have handled time, in their fine substance there’s the smell of age..”
“What casts a spell over other gods lets this most cunning god escape…”
“You, the great homesickness we could never shake off…”
“And you’d become the keening, the butterfly’s insistence…”
“I saw you dancing last night near the roof of this world…”
“…and the music and the echo of the music went out into the Void, and it was not void…”
“…And he showed to them a vision, giving to them sight when before there was only hearing…”
I laugh when I hear that the fish in the water is thirsty.
The claims made upon us by the hard work of love are bigger than life and essential to our unfolding…
All things are the body of the violin, filled with murmuring darkness.
I will receive your glance as a fountain in which things can disappear and above which the sky trembles, both eager and afraid to fall in.
the secrecy of fate and the darkness of Earth at evening-
Amidst the swell I can see only you…
I danced till my ashen covered feet sparked the ember in the tinder of possibility…
I would like to shelter it, among remote lost objects, in some dark and silent place that doesn’t resonate when the depths resound…
The stones and stars envy the movements of your legs and tongue…
To each of us you reveal yourself differently: to the ship as coastline, to the shore as a ship…
Although we never even touched I feel ravaged & raw with knowing…