Saturday, January 28, 2012

you my flower



its sharp-edged dryness is entirely as real as my eyes register
the summer-soft crimson
lost
inside the word
"fleeting"
in the idea
of past
in the wholeness
of death
so fully present
in the richness of living

11 comments:

Elisabeth said...

This flower here reminds me of an old world photograph rather like a botanical specimen which for me links to your words on life and death. Haunting as ever, Steven.

erin said...

acceptance and being, all. it makes such sense to me. i don't understand how it was that i didn't see in my first 40 years.

i agree with elisabeth. i wish i could pen this photograph.

xo
erin

Friko said...

Life and death eternal, and one image to express it.

Jo said...

So much contained in one fleeting moment...

Such richness of living!

Sweeter said...

How beautiful! Always peaceful and blissful your words!

steven said...

hmmmm i thought about rendering it in black and white elisabeth but it already is. the flowers i left standing in the autumn are as still as death and as full of memories as life itslef. steven

steven said...

erin i also thought about running it through some software that turns this image into a pen and ink rendering. but it is what is. as real as the word real allows. steven

steven said...

friko - they hold hands. not good and bad, not dark and light. each other. steven

steven said...

jo - the living lingers into the moment passed. steven

steven said...

hello dulce!!! sometimes i fall into the chaos and sometimes the serenty of the moment. steven

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