The hiss of a line in a light evening breeze sends this rose of feather, fur and steel out over a pool so clear shadows freeze where it drops. To be in this place, to feel the and promise of the river turn to wishing then transformation in wing scattered points of evening light, a woman learns fishing with her heart. For all the loss fall anoints with yellow and red under a painful blue, she watches her question drift in the last light and waits to see it dimple and vanish through a...
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All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and to that knowledge become a fragment of life's heart. But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace love's pleasure. Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing floor. Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter and weep, but not all of your tears. Love has no other desir but to fulfil itself. But...
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For those of you who enjoy literature, poetry, Edgar Allan Poe, or perhaps all three, I give you Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven: The Raven Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only th...
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