to crack, break, breath and relax into full bodied knowing. to tear the membrane limiting your belief in the possible. to climb the mountain that calls your name knowing the point from which you start is never the beginning. to turn inside out and realise that in the shadows there hides a goldmine.
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The eyes of fire, the nostrils of air, the mouth of water, the beard of earth.
― William Blake [ Proverbs of hell ]
If we're the prayer, who's praying?
that's up to you to fathom ;)
and not only prayers,
but hymns..
intricate patterns of foam lacing the waves that eat the pale rocks between grotta del fossellone and grotta delle capre. beware!, ulysses, by the mountain of circe, where the steep cliffs cut into the turquoise depths, she may grant your wishes sooner than you voice them, in any case muted by the hollow echoes of the waves beating the curved walls under the earth. ~ s. felice circeo, 25/V/2017
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