lace, light and sand

_ _ _

mid-afternoon seagulls

fog see-thru

"What is earnest is not always true; on the contrary, 

error is often more earnest than truth." - Benjamin Disraeli

_ _ _

the fog's down on me and the sea

I'm-age

to the frigid world at large
beyond my photographs i am imageless

undetectable at any present

                                                           yet,

once i step inside the frame
time ceases to exist - i'm ageless
infinitely prese(n)t

bound to remain this way
in the minds of those who care
to know me as i am

still love me for real
                                                          till the end

an armful enough to keep the fire

roaring river

rootless roofless restless reckless
ruthless relentless, the river rages
roars rushes rapturous to the rim
of the sea, [re]cedes
to "that which is like
into itself"
ravelled, ravished
                                         revered

"the essence of that which is like into itself, is drawn"

- Abraham-Hicks Law of Attraction

ambivalence

from the grass[roots]

"The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that

will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially.

If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry."

- Ernest Hemingway, "A Farewell to Arms"

the grass[roots]

pacific north-west sunset

(on the eve of epiphany)

the day grew tall, drew

fierce flames upon the sun-

down the sorrow of light's departure

its fingers raw bleeding

the imminence of next dawn
lavish rebirth

imagined, longed for

always different

rogue images

of havoc inchoation i-(a)m-

ages of grief, uncertainty
beyond the notion of time
abundance color love

"i am a handful of dirt"

and an open trust

in a kinder sun

tomorrow

at ground zero

"the beauty of a sunset is in its promise of rebirth." - 

imagine if, dream when

_ _ _

Crack of imminence in the heart,

while the foot of hope

dances its blue dance,

in love with its own shadow.

There is an expectant hymn 

that cannot begin

as long as the dance has not finished

its cultivation of time.

It is a hymn backward, 

and inverted imminence,

the last thread to tie the fountain 

before its flow carries it away.

There are songs that sing,

there are others that are silent, 

the deepest of all go backward 

from the first letter.

- Roberto Juarroz, tr. by S.W. Merwin

_ _ _

happy new 2014! remember, "the best is yet to come"
                                                                                                            much love,