I am in here.
The little box grows her first teeth And her little length grows Her little width her little emptiness And everything she has The little box grows and grows And now inside her is the cupboard That she was in before And she grows and grows and grows And now inside her is the room And … Continue reading The Little Box
Essential Oils — are wrung — The Attar from the Rose Be not expressed by Suns — alone — It is the gift of Screws — The General Rose — decay — But this — in Lady’s Drawer Make Summer — When the Lady lie In Spiceless Sepulchre — — Emily Dickinson
Deliverance is not for me in renunciation. I feel the embrace of freedom in a thousand bonds of delight. Thou ever pourest for me the fresh drought of thy wine of various colours and fragrance, filling this earthen vessel to the brim. My world will light its hundred different lamps with thy flame and place … Continue reading Gitanjali #73
Gail over at Crossing the Rubicon2 just posted this, and for some reason, it’s exactly what I needed to read at this time. I’m not sure why that’s so, but I’m going with the gut feeling, and posting it here too. Thanks, Gail! Box of Rain Look out of any window any morning, any evening, … Continue reading Box of words
white pebble 