Wednesday, April 9, 2008

to the lighthouse, the lighthouse

song: cotton, the mountain goats
mood: awayward

i've been thinking about qui(n)tessentials, reducing myself into self-satisfied bareness. i will become structured pale-green as the curled & teasing tongues of an april tulip.

When the last days come
We shall see visions
More vivid than sunsets
Brighter than stars
We will recognize each other
And see ourselves for the first time
The way we really are

the rain falls through us like dust & will no more turn to snow. this is the new season & we sit on stone steps, playing crokinole, laughing for the sunlight. i am infused with a sudden attitude of purpose. i am cultivating a transient pattern. singularities.


No comments: