Wednesday, November 30, 2011

within the possibility


i fold
and curl
and throw myself back to the earth
even as the earth
rises to meet me

but, while held in the sun's hands
i feel an invitation
to stay
that is hard to ignore

every morning
every night
and every moment
that flowers in-between
i am pulled
and stretched
between
the straining hands of the here and now
and the feathered edges of evermore

i was listening to the music of harold budd and brian eno when i wrote this

8 comments:

Elisabeth said...

This music certainly evokes wonderful words, Steven, words that match the images of a wizened stalk of leaves.

Ruth said...

I am always drawn to shadows within leaves, like yours, when I notice them. Sometimes insect silhouettes appear. To reflect on the sun and earth as you have, and the tension and space of this moment, and eternity, is a layer of knowing I had not considered. Thank you.

steven said...

elisabeth - each day i feel the small twist of being further from my earthly beginning and closer to my earthly end but i'm fine with that because in that tension is the most beautiful opportunity - to live. steven

steven said...

ruth - i love those shadows and the insect shadows you speak of - well yes!!!! steven

Joanna said...

I love the simplicity of the image and the clarity of your words. I feel that tension every day as well. And it's a good thing.

Linda Sue said...

Like the perpetual event horizon- that stretch, that pull...But in slo mo.

The music once again took me to a place where i would like to stay...but there is a dog that wants walking, and a cat that wants chicken, a bird to make whistle and squawk and then the other pesky stuff- laundry, dinner, the getting of groceries...but thank you so much for the brief reprieve! Lovely!

steven said...

joanna - these little plants are now earthbound and softened but the image still carries weight and certainly the tension between the here and now and the evermore is ever=present!! steven

steven said...

linda sue - yes there's a thin line between the slow mo and the accelerated pull of life and death that adds to the complexity of the weavings of this place. steven