(Source: abretumente)

When You Come Here #2

ninewhitetulips:

I will take you to the forest where
We will watch—-
We will see wildlife walking among
Us
We will breathe the salted air
We will hear the sounds of life lived
Upon and around the water and
After a time we will find the
Portal to the other world
The one that breathes and pulses
Unseen all around us 

Michelle Dent

lucong: A Moment with Liza, oil on panel, 24 x 18 inches, 2008

lucong:

A Moment with Liza, oil on panel, 24 x 18 inches, 2008

(Source: deborark)

I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. - Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.


- Joyce Kilmer

She sighs. What shall I say?For beauty seems to growIn silence, when the heart is faint and slow.Sing, sing… How shall I sing?In silent eyes, where clouds and islands gaze,The waves bring Eros in.I think the rustling of her clothesIs like the sea, and sheA wild white bird,And love is like the sighing of the sand.~Louis Simpson, The Silent Lover

She sighs. What shall I say?
For beauty seems to grow
In silence, when the heart is faint and slow.

Sing, sing… How shall I sing?
In silent eyes, where clouds and islands gaze,
The waves bring Eros in.

I think the rustling of her clothes
Is like the sea, and she
A wild white bird,

And love is like the sighing of the sand.
~Louis Simpson, The Silent Lover

By dawn, the wind had fled, the Canada geese had returned to the wetlands. Shapes of Light seeped through my eyes and took their places, pearls of tulip and narcissus. No crisis to be averted in the tangled plum. No burden of knowledge demanding a question. Only the textured stillness of melting shadows, and the green unfolding Now that we call time. The world does not need reform. It needs our amazement.

By dawn, the wind had fled, the Canada geese had returned to the wetlands. Shapes of Light seeped through my eyes and took their places, pearls of tulip and narcissus. No crisis to be averted in the tangled plum. No burden of knowledge demanding a question. Only the textured stillness of melting shadows, and the green unfolding Now that we call time. The world does not need reform. It needs our amazement.