white.

i return home to a different color. perhaps that of white deer. they were standing so recklessly in that field, their white bodies casting light on the world, already shimmering. how could it grow brighter yet? sometimes, there appear these flashes of light in our lives that sing to parts of ourselves we had never before known. distant parts from some ancient past or ancient future in a language we know not, but somehow understand. how is it, that i always have a million things to write, but often feel so silent? yes, i am mute in the wake of quiet and gentle and immeasurably loud travels; screaming and white.

some ray carver ~

in air heavy
with odor of crocuses,

sensual smell of crocuses
i watch a lemon sun disappear,

a sea change blue
to olive black.

i watch lightning leap from asia as
sleeping,

my love stirs and breathes and
sleeps again,

part of this world and yet
part that.

Posted by jeff at May 6, 2003 02:20 PM

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