Just for a bit...

... all beautiful spaces grow wild, never-growling non-events, reaching up and all around in silence. Space. They soften around us as the whispers absorb the cotton ball stars, feeling the sun warm them. Softening around our feet like sweet moss. It is nothing into nothing. And we kiss it- a newborn babe.

The visceral cut is clean, and its beauty flows relentless.

Accordion or Harmonika

Suppose we be in an accordion. When the pallet is at rest there is stillness, so no matter the chord touched on the master board, the sound is silence. As the balance point of the instrument is tipped, air moves in or out. Could life be the song answering: what was touched in the silence?

They do say the accordion is the perfect instrument for comedies.

Look to the Rose

Look to the rose that blows about us-

"Lo, laughing," she says, "Into the world I blow:
At once the silken tassel of my purse
Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw."

OMAR KHAYYAM
(11th century)

*
My friend said- Maybe you're not what you thought you were.
I asked.
And I was waiting for a profound thing.
I like to roll the profound quilt around myself and take a snooze.
Ate a muffin and fell asleep on the bathroom floor
underneath the skylight
and waking up, felt the sun shining like a warm friend
Like a beauty that didn't mind a thing
not a thing at all.

Clearing

Absolved of the cellular past,
and hence dissolved of the future-
the solution is dissolution.

Nothing will be re-chorded
The strings are unstrung.
Now our music is free.

Abort the mission. Abort. Abort.
The child has no form.

Give this pearl back to the sea
we crush it with all these collective gems
jewels across time.
And rising like bubbles,
there are sparklings across the heavens
And falling like pebbles,
settle sparklings on the earth.

Here we are afloat
between clear water
clear sky