happiness # 51

this, here. as i am sitting here. here; now. yes, now.

silly sunglasses on my head. bubble blower next to me. clouds embracing with tiny-tall hands the so light sky. distant music; and i am here.

remembrances of Catcher in the Rye; reading it, warm April summertime.

yes it was.

parks in my head. some water. a stream.

Pink Floyd's Cluster One.

oh, my head loves to turn and spin. 'nomad soul' sounds so heavy. let's just call it a seabound soul then. but with body as shore, i love to embark, and return. fingers on skin; clouds on veiled cirrus blue.

long, slow notes. a small smile unexpected. a day on which to land, and fall like deeply red leaves. songs such as no radio plays.

like bubbles.

blow bubbles.



sure, none of this might make sense. all these things are just me, and perhaps even hermetic (i suddenly see the word 'hermit' in the word 'hermetic', for no apparent reason). but there is one single, universal principle that could account for any of you as well. this, here. here; now. yes, now.

and here.

happiness # 50

every time i live through an intense moment of happiness, a bird flies through the sky.

or even more than one.

happiness # 49

one red balloon.

message of the day

(here i am. not waiting; still. arms as riverbeds. never to cross the water.)

line of lyrics # 4

If I should die this very moment
I wouldn't fear
for I've never known completeness

like being here

Wrapped in the warmth of you
loving every breath of you
Still my heart this moment

or it might burst



(Lamb - Gorecki)

poem of the day (Ghent, above the water)

Serre d'ennui

Ô cet ennui bleu dans le coeur!
Avec la vision meilleure,
Dans le clair de lune qui pleure,
De mes rêves bleus de langueur!

Cet ennui bleu comme la serre,
Où l'on oit closes à travers
Les vitrages profonds et verts,
Couvertes de lune et de verre,

Les grandes végétations
Dont l'oubli nocturne s'allonge,
Immobilement comme un songe,
Sur les roses des passions;

Où de l'eau très lente s'élève,
En mélant la lune et le ciel
En un sanglot glaque éternel,
Monotonement comme un rêve.


- Maurice Maeterlinck

and now, in color

line of lyrics # 3

All that no one sees
you see
What's inside of me

Every nerve that hurts
you heal
Deep inside of me

You don't have to speak--
I feel.



(Björk - Joga)

revisited

Remember


Those were the first true words
I had written about you. To stay

You were not here before. When my
hands looked for my face

You put your hands on me, looked
at me and I existed. How could you be so


right


You spoke to me like I could
hear, understand. Why

To tell me I'm beautiful. It's all
I ever want to hear again. And again


From you


When my hands looked for your face
they felt thin air. Until

This was how you created me:
You were there. We are here

This is what you started; I am
what is begun. I breathe still


Breathe such deep thoughts


I look for a place in your
shadow, to stay

And I know that
things will be


okay

hold still, it's a windmill