somewhere
inside the something
of what
this all is about
i sit
under the straw-roof
of the hut
of my imagining
shaping
a reed flute
with which i can
play the music
of
all the little moments
what the actual fuck America
1 day ago
Saturday, April 3, 2010
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12 comments:
A straw hut in winter - a snow covered straw hut - is an amazing sight.
To me it's almost a contradiction in terms. Huts belong to warm climates, not in the snow.
One of the guys that would sometimes be on staff with us on river trips was such an amazing fellow. Among his many talents was whittling. He would cut a small green branch and make a whistle. It only worked fresh. Once it dried out, it wouldn't work anymore.
Lovely.
I am enjoying your bloggings very much. Peaceful and observant.
Best wishes
Rima
hello elisabeth - when i read the haiku of the japanese poets from hundreds of years ago i see mentions of the snow and the imaginings i have are rich!!! have a lovely day. steven
ellen - see i love that story - it's an earthly wise story. it runs counter to what you might intuit. have a peaceful day. steven
hi rima - thankyou for your kind comment and thanks for dropping by. steven
I hear the music, and it makes me dance. xx
Lovely!!Hear me tapping with my bare feet my way out of this tune! Wonderful!A very fine Easter days to you and yours Steven!
reya - the blessings of the imagination are so great!!! steven
hey aleks! there's worlds of music in the dance of the imagination. worlds that transport us away and inside this world. i wish you a lovely peaceful easter. steven
I absolutely love this Steven.
Brilliant.
Play your tune,
and dance.
This made me smile, I'm not sure why. Snow on straw and the wonderful symmetry of it all. Music to my eyes?
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