Friday, 19 October 2012

pray and prey. differences and simliarities

the wind whistles and the trees breathe their paper language laying gifts most beautiful at feet. the world in it's most naked and natural form speaks. i tuck it all in my pocket like music for a rainy day, for those rare occassions when water needs accompaniment. the tracks in the dirt led me here. my feet fit the hollows and i feel the weight of his body slung across her (which are my) shoulders. the way it has always been. it seems evolution only got so far. the blood moon came and went. the rabbit leaps across the moon and for the time inbetween we grow into ourselves, make our way through the deep and the shallows, if we're lucky feel the rub of skin, belly to back beneath layers but warmed by our own fires, write our stories on the walls. i wonder if our ancestors slept through much simpler dreams. wonder whether the hands into which we pour ourselves have changed. "i dont understand", he says and i wonder whether we are even supposed to.




regardless of form, always this.

3 comments:

♥ w o o l f ♥ said...

... paper language ...
why, yes!
n♥

Wingfall at dusk said...

Deeply profound and dream like, yet laced with the smell of damp soil and drifts of leaves.
"warmed by our own fires, write stories on the walls" - I especially love that.
The other week, it also crossed my mind 'what did the ancients dream?' Strange how these thoughts fly. I've been reading (among other things) about the neolithic people and not so much how they lived, but how they viewed the land. To me, it is strange and disorientating - yet there is a part of me that 'gets it'. I wonder if there is a pulse that beats through their dreams and ours.

ellom said...

new landscapes to think towards here. Will carry this one for a while.