gathering of the flowers
” A smile fell in the grass.
Irretrievable!
And how will your night dances
Lose themselves. In mathematics?
Such pure leaps and spirals—-
Surely they travel
The world forever, I shall not entirely
Sit emptied of beauties, the gift
Of your small breath, the drenched grass
Smell of your sleeps, lilies, lilies.
Their flesh bears no relation.
Cold folds of ego, the calla,
And the tiger, embellishing itself——-
Spots, and a spread of hot petals.
The coments
Have such a space to cross,
Such coldness, forgetfulness
So your gestures flake off——
Warm and human, then their pink light
Bleeding and peeling
Through the black amnesias of heaven
Why am I given
These lamps, these planets
Falling like blessings, like flakes
Six-sided, white
On my eyes, my lips, my hair
Touching and melting/
Nowhere.
—–Sylvia Plath
I have always been a night person, night owl of the lyrics. My mind rushes with ideas, my eyes filled with the heavenly lights, the moon, stars, planets and the shooting stars. Alone with the Divine lights and my soul. I meditate, paint, read, and write. The night makes my heart free. Ah, and then the morning. Not my time to function. My body is heavy and my mind vague and fuzzy. I really love to awaken slowly with a stretch of limbs to open my heart and soul to the love that fills me. I am seldom understood. But what can I say, the night dances.
Comet dances in the night
idealisticrebel 