If the owl stops hooting,how will i know i am home?
the throw atop the bed is crumpled,brought back from Otherworld
huh! yeah,
she took me there last night,
i need air on my face,outside the chamber,
she is in the space with me, because she wants to be, air,
just lighting a candle for us, Davy Spillane took us out,then Dead can dance took us deeper, an eagle took us home,
she cries with the pleasure to embrace the great mystery,
i require fresh water from the well ,
i find some comfort here , with my own,
she turns when the stag moves on the edge of the forest,
“where you go ,my man! where?
when it touches you, ——- so that’s when i lick the raindrop off a small light green leaf,
she knows i like to look into her eyes,which is why she keeps kindle a flame there,
“to get us water,(maybe to enwomb desire,to suckle the child born of joyous union,with the great mothers milk)”
“we are still in the garden,but not blinded my love”
yes,”come, lets sit in front the fire”
people always said that i was seeking something rare, yes,
bangles, woodfire, she looks up and smiles,”we journey well , don’t you think”
“how long do you see the journey”
“l o n g , i see it long ,we have something beautiful to feed,i heard your mindspeak,shall we nourish existence”
Recent Comments