“I looked up at the mass of signs and stars in the night sky and laid myself open for the first time to the benign indifference of the world.” ~ Albert Camus, from The Stranger

Swarming Birds at Dusk by Hunter Desportes FCC
Swarming Birds at Dusk by Hunter Desportes (FCC)


Two for Tuesday: In the Singular

Black Bird by Barbara Willi FCC
Black Bird by Barbara Willi (FCC)


Someone spoke to me last night,
told me the truth. Just a few words,
but I recognized it.
I knew I should make myself get up,
write it down, but it was late,
and I was exhausted from working
all day in the garden, moving rocks.
Now, I remember only the flavor—
not like food, sweet or sharp.
More like a fine powder, like dust.
And I wasn’t elated or frightened,
but simply rapt, aware.
That’s how it is sometimes—
God comes to your window,
all bright light and black wings,
and you’re just too tired to open it.

~ Dorianne Laux


Black Wing Stilt Footprints in the Sand by Shankar S FCC
Black Wing Stilt Footprints in the Sand by Shankar S (FCC)


I have a tone inside me
that has not been sounded. Or only once
or twice. Once she went straight to the center
of me, once she could have walked through me
like a tunnel. She could have seen sky
on the other side of me.
I could have washed my hands in sand,
then touched her, turned her to sand.
I’m the opposite of Midas: I want to touch
what’s returning to earth.

~ Jane Hilberry 

So tired . . .


Tired body and soul. Tired of waiting and wondering. Tired of doing and doting. Tired of the words and tired of the sounds. Bone-weary and soul-strained. So very, very tired.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that. I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That’s why I’m trying not to thing. I just want it all to stop spinning.” – The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Stephen Chbosky)”

Music by José González, “Teardrop”