Tuesday, October 13, 2015

be witched

"I can hear it but I cannot see it.
Waves appear as evidence that movement surrounds me.
The bird floats. Water bubbles.
It is effortless but not easy. Survival is heavy and buoyant here. 
Each piling holds the weight of air graciously. The cormorant waits patiently for sustenance.
Fog obscures the urgency for action.
One meaning orchestrated by all.
Now. Become."
JH

Monday, October 5, 2015