Friday, November 11, 2016




Half-awake, I breathe in the night.

In the murky mind-sky, there are movements.

Jewel-hued by shades of un-named colors, countless stars appear and dance.

We're all flying now, passing through -- a gateway of fire, a ring of golden light.

Nightingale, I must be moon-dazzled.











They say that Leonard Cohen passed away yesterday.

Fare thee well, nightingale.

2 comments:

Harlequin said...

~ Amen ~

Iulia Flame said...

Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?

(Keats)

The mountains held up the sky like pillars, releasing plumes of pebbles, streams and silt as far as my girlish eyes could follow, and w...

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