A part of my mind has formed that wasn’t there before. I refuse to process, scan, to try to grasp and discern, to categorize and evaluate.
An insight, a step, a thought
A truth, a feeling, a song
A wish, a look, a tear
A fear, a breath, a path
And something is leaving me, something soft. An essential something. How do I hold onto it? I never force what refuses to stay.
No anger, no demand.
Only a quiet, open hand.
(Now that the rooms are empty, I don’t know how to feel. Relived? Disappointed? Frightened? Exhausted? Excited?
Hope shines through the windows, but in the shadows, the memories linger.
What lies beyond can be anything. But I know I will never forget.)
Zrak
Related Blogposts
Leaf found himself having been born. With a memory. Of wind and soil. From the wind, his sisters and brothers whispered to him. From the soil, they sang. Leaf’s nerves were roots, his roots nerves. He grew into his world. Seven years passed. Someone died. Leaf bent inwards. A mist…
Dear friend, I shall try and describe my world for you. I am sorry I am so slow to show myself. But it continues to be a vulnerable practice. As I understand the tableau, it is a world surrounding the poetic self. Situating yourself there, is materializing in a context.…