Autumn Fire
Waters turn gray as the skies close and the first breath of autumn enters from the south with light wind and cool air. Gulls speak
September 25, 2014
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Waters turn gray as the skies close and the first breath of autumn enters from the south with light wind and cool air. Gulls speak
The old man’s shell cracks thick as a tombstone, hard as walnut, hungry for the green wave. With tears of desire his white arms reach,
Old stones fall from weather and age, the call of the earth drawing them down after long standing. Vines reach up to soften their decline
Nowhere to go, no time to get there, only here and now and the bright light of morning. Who we are rises like islands in
Let go of time; how can you travel with the weight of such memory? Night sky opens to infinite fire, the sea a depth beyond
Outside the roar, frantic movement of the hive; within breath slows, making space for the unseen.