6am. i open the windows to let in the quiet and the soft and listen to joanna three months too early. the lazy lavender wilts under it's own weight out there on the ledge as i attempt to quench the morning thirst of all the green because more often than not, i forget at night.
the months feel different this year. like someone cut the thread that binds them to their corresponding season. i worry, but recall several days ago lying belly to the ground, svadhisthana throbbing and imagining the disintegration of edges and feeling close...
5 comments:
Wow this is so gorgeous! That first line is so gorgeous! I love that morning air.
its my favourite.
thank you emma, for your visit and kind words..
This is wonderful.
'The disintegration of edges and feeling close'... yes that, I think, is at the very heart of it.
nights are for forgetting, wheels of sleep turning you, winds of the night guiding you
a steadfast traveller on changing seas, beautiful underwater currents, chakra kissed by a memory
;)
"..here the ancient voices of lost cities
patina my horizons
with the gilded secrets of endless years...."
~ marty matz
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