Erasing the past –collecting ash with chopsticks –infertile practiceembrace, learn, and recreatewe are clay – artist’s magic.
I offer Rage a chairinvite a conversation She rants about childhoodand neglect, powerlessnessin the face of abuse And I nod and remember,suggest she’s also feeling grief And she talks about cryingalone, no one caring, and howI don’t let her cry anymore I put up walls, I agree,and ask how I can help Stop leaving me […]
Wee rowan laddrums me into nighta fabled rhythmconjuring mysticaloneiric encounters There is freedomin dreamingslipping ego’s holdsoul taking flight There is sorrow toofor when the drummer’ssong is donemorning must come. (Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
we must have been on the same wavelength again VJ as I had the word ‘fuchsia’ in my head last night – I just need to think what to do with it!
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Love it when that happens!
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Beautiful, V.J. 💕
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😘🙏
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Beautiful. 😀
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Thanks
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Beautiful Haiku..
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Thank you!
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Ah, such a beautiful haiku.
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Thank you!
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You’re welcome.
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