The Future

she’s spent her life in hiding,
waiting for the future
she hoped one day would come

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Distant Figures

Ever more, your eyes are like
stones. Ripples have left in

the shadow of our lost
conversation. Moving

through open meadow,
clouds make darkened

spectral shapes. The story
of Sisyphus is formed –

mists carrying weights
they could have lost

long ago, if they’d been
honest with the world.

Perhaps rain will fall,
and new forms be made;

soon, mountainous
storms, obvious to all

who look, or feel weightless
pressure in the air.

 

Image: The painting “Sisyphus” by Kolesnikov Sergey, taken from http://www.russianpaintings.net/artists/artist_kolesnikov_sergey_246953/sisyphus_250500/

Flowering Abyss

You are a flowering abyss:
everyday you grow more beautiful
and more empty.
Like a storm in its eye –
sublime in its power,
it becomes so suddenly
silent, in one place,
as the billowing winds
and capsizing waves
rage around it.

You are so much more
than I can say,
than I can see.
To me you are just a collection:
of what is reflected and triggered in my memories.

Quote #85

“The mind and the body are so intimately connected that ultimately we cannot tell the difference between them. Ultimately, indeed, they tell the same stories about us. But the body is the more visible aspect of the being and so may speak for itself. When we align the body we also align the mind. The body is the hologram of the being, as Alexander Lowen has said. ‘The body does not lie.’”
― Alcmaeon, Concerning Nature, 6th century B.C.