prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08
2002-06-02 - 8:46 p.m.
waltz of words ~in the beginning~
Dearest Wendy,
a man stands by the lake. the lake is calm. his eyes are fixed on the distance. the sky boils black while the lake watches. there are no ripples in this lake. instead of water, there is stone. the only heat is in the man. white light held within his breath. a drop of light escapes his eye, it falls from the sky into the lake. a fracture forms where it lands, moving steadily towards the shore. it does not stop there. the earth crumbles as the the wound grows. the ground on which the man stands, cracks. and so the man does too. the body falls away in swirls of dust, leaving only a shard of light. the edge of a mirror. the mirror falls up, toward nothing. tumbling as it does, in it, is the world, which does not exist. the mirror is glass. ripples flow across the glass. at the edge they cross to the other side and flow back. the ripples become waves, deforming the glass. the waves become sound. and disappear. crashing in silence. the stars come out, only they have no light. there is only the blanket of coldness.
a woman stands alone in the coldness. she thinks of nothing and noone. she feels life within her. she is confused by what she knows. she is stone being carved from the earth. someone has seen her in earth though she was not there. the sculptors blade is her own hand. she gropes and slices at her flesh. she is torn open and created so that she may know pain. she savors the wound, and tears of dark blood fall. the granite becomes supple. and her eyes find the freedom to roam. she kneels down and and drinks the earth at her feet. so that she may see more, she climbs through the air. her companion is the small band which she has made, slicing over her like the skin of water broken by a pin. the beating within her calls her. she seeks to give it life, but the world will not take it. so the blade returns and she carves again. she has seen someone in the stone that she wants to set free.
i stand looking out at the sky. the clouds swirl darkly, and the trees shimmer in their own light. slowly the brances descend sinking into the ground. the stones dissolve, and the air becomes solid. only a fossil remains
~ you carve me, with your words, k
old starlight - new starbright
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