Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Anew
Anew
So as to, in a new way, be the ebb and flow of the pull of the moon, the cycle of the seasons...the dark of night, the light of day; so as to be a simple pebble, tender lips, a droplet in the sea - so large and so small; to be the fast pace of slow motion, the sound of a flute or wild things in the night; to be a sea breeze or a fire burning out of control. So as to be the fragrance of snow melting, bodies caressing, compost rotting, mountains dissolving, and stars falling...babies to grandparents; So sweet so sour. So as to be the abundance and the flavors; and, in a new way, be the dead and walk among their beauty; to be the smell of dew in the early morning, the first breath of heavy rains...the intoxication of a thousand roses. So as to be a blue moon and yet omnipresent as the love we chose to forget so as to remember...anew.
-Jonah Mulski
So as to, in a new way, be the ebb and flow of the pull of the moon, the cycle of the seasons...the dark of night, the light of day; so as to be a simple pebble, tender lips, a droplet in the sea - so large and so small; to be the fast pace of slow motion, the sound of a flute or wild things in the night; to be a sea breeze or a fire burning out of control. So as to be the fragrance of snow melting, bodies caressing, compost rotting, mountains dissolving, and stars falling...babies to grandparents; So sweet so sour. So as to be the abundance and the flavors; and, in a new way, be the dead and walk among their beauty; to be the smell of dew in the early morning, the first breath of heavy rains...the intoxication of a thousand roses. So as to be a blue moon and yet omnipresent as the love we chose to forget so as to remember...anew.
-Jonah Mulski
