in the little world
of my creation
there is a courtyard
filled with woods and rivers and ponds and skies
trees and flowers and rocks
birds and fish and animals
and on the walls of the courtyard
are pictures of my history
sometimes
something in the courtyard will enter
one of the pictures
and in its leaving
a song will emerge
and i write it here
holding it
in place
all the better
to see it
all the better
to know
-
a lamasery
with hanging gardens.
battle pictures
thoughts stand unmoving
like the mosaic tiles
in the palace yard
words tomas tranströmer
3 comments:
The walls of my courtyard are making me feel claustrophobic today, I'm sorry to say...I want to magic them away!
House of mirrors ... yeah, I totally get that one!
everything leaves us transformed. and you sing. rather than walls, steven, it feels as though your courtyard faces both inward and outward, as though no one might guess which side the gizzard is on.
xo
erin
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