small temples ~ written all around us


Some politicians, some priests aspire to leave their indelible mark, and so they will…perhaps we only consider how it would be to fly to where the willow tree hangs over water, like the weaver bird, leaving this place closer to the way we found it. This all would be a less than simple reply.

So I speak now only where perhaps poetry and words become a small voice reverberating intuitively, a deep breath of gratitude continued; and perhaps to simplify I would say:  “Yes!” She curves her lips gently near to her teeth and into a smile, where words escape with the sound of the wind where strings of red play eternally in a chord of completion.. “Yes!”… this is me, words dressed in the tips of fingers opening only onto her forehead of lace resting against mine.


2 thoughts on “small temples ~ written all around us

    • there is this willow tree where the weavers hang their homes… you’d like it there. there is much silence, except for the beating of busy little wings.
      sometimes chance finds us.

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