.......................... The woman became spirit in the differentiated dawn. By an attic window of diffused sun with which she's not merging but emerging as light. Dust floats scintillating like myriads of reflectors. Bright as the birdsong of the world, her spirit an unburning flame, a panoply of sparklers, a cluster of luminophor, a throng of stars.
In secret transforming into spirit in the quiet of the dawn hidden in the turret of an old house.
I saw her when I lay down to rest, and remembered so that when I came back I could write of her for you.
Sometimes it's like that, the light burning behind your closed eyelids, the woman becoming spirit.
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Lucubration: that which is composed by night; that which is produced by meditation in retirement; hence (loosely) any literary composition.
Sheath of feeling. Words groping to touch air.
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I should like to say again, that the word "alchemy" comes to mind as I read this composition once more.
ReplyDeleteThe alchemy of a transformation.
This composition is meditative.
You really need to submit your Poetry in a collection. Not only because of the brilliance in composition, but the shining it has in universality.
Blessings~