.......................... 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.
Showing posts with label lucubration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lucubration. Show all posts
Thursday, June 26, 2008
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Woman with Flowers 7.1
(7th sketch in series, first iteration of this one) Woman with Flowers Flowers, props upholding the woman. The flowers, fragrant, imaginar...
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The Buddha says: “ You cannot travel the path until you have become the path itself .” The path is uncertain. Uncertainty is the guiding for...
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What if relationships are the primary ordering principle? What if the way relationships are ordered clarify, explain, and instruct us on th...
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direct link: Tones of Noir music: Alex Bailey, ' Piano Improvisation No 7 .' Do poems wait to be born? A poem whittled out of t...