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December 28th, 2014

IV

Under the blunt pine
I who am not sent
Remain. The pathway dies,
The journey has begun.
Here the bird abides
And sings on top of the forgotten
Storm. The ground is warm.
He sings no particular message.
His hymn has one pattern, no more planned,
No less perfectly planned
And no more arbitrary
Than the pattern in the seed, the salt,
The snow, the cell, the drop of rain.

  ELIAS – Variations on a theme | louie, louie 2 .

Being sent and waiting. Read more...Collapse )

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bobby1933
bobby1933

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