NOBODY'S READING

I thought, after I had spilled these words out
like breathing,
almost without a breath they became visible
and told their own story,
that this was all right,
in fact good.

How strangely things crystallise in the mind
and come out whole, complete,
without anxiety or intervention of the guiding troubled ego,
they form like the multplicity of snowflakes,
each with their own message, floating,
turning about as if at random,
to land on terra firma
and set their seed.

LoveAnni

sorry multiple tiple.

mercy me

in the cold

I must go at once to see what you have written,
but in the meantime thanks,
if that's what I should say,
yes its magical and unfathomable....just as (without comparison!!)
Johan Sebastian Bach said of his music,:"Its just there, I only write it down:"

Skaal, Ann.

I couldn't have a light side if I didn't have a dark side too, Comedy and Tragedy are seen to be the two sides of all art, all life, all that exists in our conscious world, and the one without the other is but a pale flat-footed way of looking at things.

If we didn't have the dark, we wouldn't have anything to compare the light with would we. They are all part of the whole. We cannot hop through life on one foot, metaphorically speaking, we have to use both feet or we are lopsided

Thank you for your comment, yes this one surprised me too!!
Ann lookingatasnowyhillinsunrise agaisntthedarkfirs.

Like a rosary,
we tell the beads,
each one a poem of life,
like seeds of truth,
their world is round,
and as we reach the end,
there is no end.

The brown wood warms,
as in our hands we fondle each polished ball,
its surface smiles,
its heart is strong,
its melody a song
like that of ever dripping rains,
travelling along the wires of communication.

They go,
we know not where they go,
they fall like snow,
so virgin white and pure,
to dissipate when heat gives change,
into another element,
in air,
where seemingly invisible,
they precipitate to fall anew.

A cycle round,
that never has a clasp,
long hours to spend,
we offer up each prayer,
and never find a termination;
like the serpent swallowing its tail,
round like this world, a globe,
so innocent, so blue,
a heaven on earth
like me and you.

Anni