the rain is like you…

I don’t know: this gravity elastic feeling to let go and fall together with you is one thing, but it is better to live exactly where you are with as many permanent emotions in you as you can muster.
Talking to myself.

Your spirit is with me.

the rain is like you

Please kiss whatever part of you can reach for me.

— John Cage —

you can’t. not yet. so don’t…

“What does it take to inspire you?”
He asked.
“I need to fall in love,” she replied.
“Surely there must be an easier way,”
he retorted.

http://weednymphos.tumblr.com/post/99259117378/ushttp://weednymphos.tumblr.com/post/99259117378/us

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Why, I have already fallen in love twice today,” she answered,

http://weednymphos.tumblr.com/post/99259117378/ushttp://weednymphos.tumblr.com/post/99259117378/us

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“First, when I set my eyes upon the
ever precipitous mountains that surround us,
guarding us like the skin that stretches along our bones,
and second,
with the uncertainty in your voice when you asked
if there is anything easier than falling in love.”

— n. o. —

travellers…

In trains we need not choose our company
For all the logic of departure is
That recognition is suspended; we
Are islanded in unawareness, as
Our minds reach out to where we want to be.

But carried thus impersonally on,
We hardly see that person opposite
Who, if we only knew it, might be one
Who, far more than the other waiting at
Some distant place, knows our true destination.

— Philip Larkin —

http://filthybadllama.tumblr.com/post/67749106750/v-tom-b-x-filthybadllama-2013

the peace of wild things…

When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

– Wendell Berry –

wild honey