this window is just the idea of sky in the same way hands merely suggest caress human hearts imagine more than what is given this ceaseless invocation is hope and is the reason for so many moon songs © Sarah Whiteley
I would bury them, my sorrows, deep into the loam - into the comfort of earth, and dark, and waiting I would bury them, these burdens, beneath the roots of the locust that stood as witness to their birth I would bury them, my troubles, … Continue reading I would bury them…
more familiar with the betweens than with the origins and destinations and that, I suppose, is the nature of the journey we take – a conglomeration of moments framed by first and last breaths, by the hopeful fogs of tomorrow’s mornings and the dry silences … Continue reading the betweens
you were never and are not and yet then again that crumbling moment when the sun subsides and a farewell fire clings to the bellies of the clouds --you are dappled like that the glow about the edges of the end of my day though … Continue reading false hope
I have not dusted them away those days like daffodils in December they lie quietly below snowy crusts nestled deep down in the dormant dark beneath sparrows' flittering feet whose beaks seek out the forgotten seeds of some summer come the day when I am … Continue reading a winter life
What I did with my three day weekend. Cheers! Reason for Hope Click the link!
crow night's star-dusted feathers drape her blue-black whisperings covering over the green of gloaming in the absence of light I fall to forgetting eyes tight-closed against the possibility of loss feather-tipped unknowing brushes away the dust of hope nothing gold can stay? then I pray … Continue reading untitled