An olive tree on Monterosa Street,
turns to unsculpted sprawl
of self containment,
Lists beneath warm breath of wind,
a reason to absorb diminished daylight
for the mind that leans
toward sleep,
Screen smell offers rain's ablutions
via dream across nightlight
Whole cloth of darkness
matches desire
and insects sing
a backdrop into being,
Calm lets go original
intention against street side
repetition of idea turned
to something recognizable again
7 comments:
Commerce Commerce Commerce
Commerce Commerce Commerce
Commerce Commerce Commerce
repetition....
A meditation..
:-)
Simon
I hear you, my friend!
It's late capitalism, after all Sheila!
:-)
nice blog...first time here. How are you?
Thank you Kin'shar :-)
I'm fine thanks - busy as usuall!
Simon
....sometimes....i talk to strangers.
I find it difficult to think of an object as an object. Is an object entirely free of consciousness, when we have perceived it as an object?
If there was no such thing as subjectivity, how could we recognise something as an object? Evidently objects are dependent on subjectivity.
I cannot measure my soul, so how can I say that my soul has entered an object and this is why I perceive it as an object. Indeed maybe the object has a soul (a tree perhaps?) distinct from mine?
I can never know....
(far too late on a Wednesday night for such musings :-) lol
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