Musings On Hands

I just needed one person, for once to mean what they say. Just one person.

Patty Dickson Pieczka, from “Autumn”, Beyond the Moon’s White Claw 

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she belongs in a museum of flowers, folded between the pages of a book to dry

“I loved you before I was born. It doesn’t make sense, I know. I saw your eyes before I had eyes to see. And I’ve lived longing for your every look ever since. That longing entered time as this body. And the longing grew as this body waxed. And the longing grows as this body wanes. That longing will outlive this body. I loved you before I was born. It makes no sense, I know. Long before eternity, I caught a glimpse of your neck and shoulders, your ankles and toes. And I’ve been lonely for you from that instant. That loneliness appeared on earth as this body. And my share of time has been nothing but your name outrunning my ever saying it clearly. Your face fleeing my ever kissing it firmly once on the mouth. In longing, I am most myself, rapt, my lamp mortal, my light hidden and singing. I give you my blank heart. Please write on it what you wish.”

— Li-Young Lee, from The Undressing: Poems; “I loved you before I was born”

One day you will deny to destroy yourself by the immense grief you hold in your heart and the breeze will feel a little sweeter, and the birds will chirp your favourite songs, and you'll realise you've been healing all this while.

-Ann

my forever mood

🌻🌻

“...and then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?”

-Van Gogh

“You have the blood of a poet. You have that and always will. You show, in the middle of savage things (that I like), the gentleness of your heart, that is so full of pain and light.”

— Federico García Lorca