“we do not read poetry in order to find answers. but we do read it in order to find new ways of living and seeing and loving and crying and dreaming and searching and sleeping and growing without answers.”
So wonderfully true. I am so happy to read you once again. I have felt your absence.
What a beautiful and thought provoking piece. 'and if these poems— or any poem— will save the world at all, it’s because Beauty will'.
'longing is a beautiful thing because it is an arrow. this arrow provides a path toward what is absent from you, but belongs to you. in this way, it is something to act in accordance with. it is a path. and all paths are a clearing of things; empty space creating a cleft through noise and colour— creations of absence to be followed, to be inhabited'.
and so were you. i needed to float for a little while. i suppose i needed to go on a little walk. i am so happy to be here again though. thank you for waiting <3
Oh that's kind of you to ask! But you already write the kinds of ponderings I like to read <3 However, I am a big humanities and science nerd who loves to relate these subjects to metaphysical concepts. Maybe you can write something on this?
Your writing leaves me in awe every time. I feel deeply close to this piece in particular, I feel I have written the same thing in my own words. Thank you for your generosity of spirit and of dwelling in the unknowable
oh, i barely know what to write back to you. thank you, little voice. i'm sure we are all sharing the same thoughts, the same words, the same impulses somewhere up in the clouds.
i love the little tether from my world to yours. i hope yours was as lovely as mine. we've had such blue skies here and everything beautiful has been underneath them. thank you for being here <3
Honestly, I thought you died but then you were resurrected at the white knuckle. He he. I've tried to assimilate these thoughts and spew out my own sense of wisdom. Plato was an intelligent feeler. He understand that the hands on someone's body were the blueprints to the Universe. I remember someone at a music venue who told my fingers resembled a journal artist. Did I happen to write poetry because of how the hair lines were aligned. I will never know. Thank goodness for some mystery. William Carlos Williams is one of my favourite authors. He's romantic and traditional and whimsical. True poetics should not be so serious or austere. Welcome back. The birds hear the echo of your voice little ones.
thank you for waiting, and thank you for being here. i didn't die ! i just went on a walk, got lost in the flowers, and made it back in time to write you a note. x
There was an absence lying inside my heart. Hope was a thing untethered. I grew intrigued as the days became weeks and the months turned into light years. Yet the walk in the long forest must have enlightened you. I too seek solace in the wilds. Feel free to exchange wisdom little voices.
It was back in May, i think - autumn in your neck of the woods - when we were last graced by your words. I welcome your return.
I read the post immediately yet could not respond, as I've been trying to come to terms (albeit unsuccessfully) with the topic of absence. In this case it's the absence of an old friend. It was abrupt and came without warning. Did I miss the signs? A head spinner rendering me speechless and in disbelief. My relationship with the natural world is one of mystery and wonder. But when it comes
to humans, I stubbornly still seek answers - no matter how many times I repeat Rilke's quote about learning to love the questions themselves.
Though you speak of poetry and writing, it is life itself that flows thru your pieces.
fist bumps are crazy when you remember that we used to be joined at the knuckles
oh, yes. and high fives too ! <3
So lovely to have you back! This is so beautiful. It feels like stilled waters, deep and reflective💙
i am so happy to be back too. thank you for waiting. sometimes you simply need to go for a little walk.
You're back! You're back!
“we do not read poetry in order to find answers. but we do read it in order to find new ways of living and seeing and loving and crying and dreaming and searching and sleeping and growing without answers.”
So wonderfully true. I am so happy to read you once again. I have felt your absence.
i was off looking for questions. thank you for waiting. and for being here now. and for the words. <3
What a beautiful and thought provoking piece. 'and if these poems— or any poem— will save the world at all, it’s because Beauty will'.
'longing is a beautiful thing because it is an arrow. this arrow provides a path toward what is absent from you, but belongs to you. in this way, it is something to act in accordance with. it is a path. and all paths are a clearing of things; empty space creating a cleft through noise and colour— creations of absence to be followed, to be inhabited'.
thank you for being here, little voice <3
Thought provoking as always. Beautiful
<3
You were missed.
and so were you. i needed to float for a little while. i suppose i needed to go on a little walk. i am so happy to be here again though. thank you for waiting <3
Just stumbled upon your blog and oh do I love it
oh thank you little voice <3 i would love to know the kinds of wanderings and wonderings you would like to see written about?
Oh that's kind of you to ask! But you already write the kinds of ponderings I like to read <3 However, I am a big humanities and science nerd who loves to relate these subjects to metaphysical concepts. Maybe you can write something on this?
oh I would so love to dip my toes into more natural science… perhaps there will be something I can tuck in your pocket in the coming months? 💗
single-handedly made me appreciate both plato and the red wheelbarrow all over again. wish you were my english teacher!
you're too kind. i am not a teacher, though one day i would like to be. maybe i can be a gardener with a red wheelbarrow?
that fits too! if you plant anything, i'd love to see pictures, especially of a sunflower🌻🙏
today I saw the first bumblebee of our Spring here. perhaps it’s the perfect time to begin sowing seeds 🍒💗
Your writing leaves me in awe every time. I feel deeply close to this piece in particular, I feel I have written the same thing in my own words. Thank you for your generosity of spirit and of dwelling in the unknowable
oh, i barely know what to write back to you. thank you, little voice. i'm sure we are all sharing the same thoughts, the same words, the same impulses somewhere up in the clouds.
such beautiful, gentle, and thoughtful writing!!
you, dear voice, have delighted the knuckles of my soul.
what a sweet needed exhale i was gifted by you.
let's breathe together in the garden <3
I ate a plum today too. :) Its beautiful reading you
i love the little tether from my world to yours. i hope yours was as lovely as mine. we've had such blue skies here and everything beautiful has been underneath them. thank you for being here <3
we want the book <3
some day.... !
Honestly, I thought you died but then you were resurrected at the white knuckle. He he. I've tried to assimilate these thoughts and spew out my own sense of wisdom. Plato was an intelligent feeler. He understand that the hands on someone's body were the blueprints to the Universe. I remember someone at a music venue who told my fingers resembled a journal artist. Did I happen to write poetry because of how the hair lines were aligned. I will never know. Thank goodness for some mystery. William Carlos Williams is one of my favourite authors. He's romantic and traditional and whimsical. True poetics should not be so serious or austere. Welcome back. The birds hear the echo of your voice little ones.
thank you for waiting, and thank you for being here. i didn't die ! i just went on a walk, got lost in the flowers, and made it back in time to write you a note. x
i hope life has been sweet to you.
There was an absence lying inside my heart. Hope was a thing untethered. I grew intrigued as the days became weeks and the months turned into light years. Yet the walk in the long forest must have enlightened you. I too seek solace in the wilds. Feel free to exchange wisdom little voices.
It was back in May, i think - autumn in your neck of the woods - when we were last graced by your words. I welcome your return.
I read the post immediately yet could not respond, as I've been trying to come to terms (albeit unsuccessfully) with the topic of absence. In this case it's the absence of an old friend. It was abrupt and came without warning. Did I miss the signs? A head spinner rendering me speechless and in disbelief. My relationship with the natural world is one of mystery and wonder. But when it comes
to humans, I stubbornly still seek answers - no matter how many times I repeat Rilke's quote about learning to love the questions themselves.
Though you speak of poetry and writing, it is life itself that flows thru your pieces.
Thanks, and yes, welcome back.