Happy autumnal equinox, everyone!
I remember you as you were in the last autumn.
You were the grey beret and the still heart.
In your eyes the flames of the twilight fought on.
And the leaves fell in the water of your soul.
Clasping my arms like a climbing plant
the leaves garnered your voice, that was slow and at peace.
Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning.
Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul.
I feel your eyes traveling, and the autumn is far off:
Grey beret, voice of a bird, heart like a house
Towards which my deep longings migrated
And my kisses fell, happy as embers.
Sky from a ship. Field from the hills:
Your memory is made of light, of smoke, of a still pond!
Beyond your eyes, farther on, the evenings were blazing.
Dry autumn leaves revolved in your soul.
It dawned on me today that it’s been a
long while since I’ve gone from “in a relationship” to “it’s complicated.” Time for a Facebook update.
Maybe you know what I’m talking about–the frustrating hours and time spent
communicating talking with someone only to realize that he or she just doesn’t get it (apparently, they never will).
Could be that your personal investment in the
one sided relationship fling and the cold awareness that the other person doesn’t care as strongly about you as you do for him (or her) becomes your final wake-up call.
Whatever the deciding factor is that tips your relationship to “it’s complicated” and a looming break-up, know that you’re not alone. There are hundreds of thousands of us who know what you’re going through with Comcast and we’re here for you.
I birthed a new blog–different feel, new name, challenging myself to come up with most of my own photos. Drop by if you’d like. You’re always welcome :-). http://landup.wordpress.com/
Certain places are so beautiful that it’s hard to believe they exist until we experience them firsthand. Someday, I will sit on a secluded beach like this one and be awed by it’s loveliness.
by the moonlight,
aroma of exasperated
steeped in fragrance,
drifted from the lemon tree,
and from its plantarium
lemons descended to the earth.
the markets glowed
with light, with
of a miracle,
from the hemispheres
of a star,
the most intense liqueur
born of the cool, fresh
of its fragrant house,
its acid, secret symmetry.
sliced a small
in the lemon,
the concealed apse, opened,
revealed acid stained glass,
So, when you hold
of a cut lemon
above your plate,
a universe of gold,
a fragrant nipple
of the earth’s breast,
a ray of light that was made fruit,
the minute fire of a planet.
I was fortunate to meet a man today who happened to be Italian (my heritage)–a man who was passionate when he spoke of life, his family, the love of his life (his wife), his home country and his singing.
We talked about how today is so much about “now” and “right away” and “disposable.” People can be wadded up and tossed out with Tuesday’s trash when they appear “unexciting,” “respect” is somewhat of a lost art form that many people vaguely remember and, in all of the busyness, rushing and noise, we can miss out on some simple pleasures and passions.
So a garage sale turned into a serendipitous moment filled with warmth and light. “It’s about this,” he said tapping his chest where his heart was. Yes, it is.