the year breathes. inhales in first breath of the trees, stoma new opened by the song of birds longing for light. it breathes, gulps morning lungfuls of sea mist and krill dreams, exhaling mountains air warm and fragrant and humming exoskeleton with uncounted translucent wings soft through the hill grass tossing up estuary sand…
driving open window 60k’s an hour a woman, smoke tainted exhales on the side of the road and i 50m later breathe what she exhaled – there is no you and i in this we are breath and earth and water and life. the same air that moves smooth across vocal folds to speak these…
i light the morning fire though today sun will come warming the floors drying the wool hung in skeins after dyeing. there is time still for love to breathe me before light has turned to day and the world begins its waking. these are my gods this morning warmth of flame burning dead-fall wood. chorister…
borne to the surface again and again in water as salt as blood. following ripple arms and hands almost formless deep beyond shadow and further still until my lungs ache their longing for sky and i turn to face the light. surrender my yearnings my desire to know the unknowable surrender my self to salt…