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.)
Is that someone “we” know??
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha ha …not consciously, but he did look a little ancient…like history…
LikeLike
Hahaha 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
love this
LikeLike