awash in truer song – Sonnett XXXIX

My yonder wild still calls, don’t get me wrong; some days its Sirens all that fill my ears.

Just Air

Just / Air

joy and grief collide

wind chimes sing to me from the backyard this late winter morning

This canvas was not meant to be pierced.

Different is good

There’s some up top and some below, Just waitin’ for Moby to show (Huh!)

There’s beauty and there’s danger here – Split the ice apart!

God is not dead, nor doth He sleep

Enough. Fall down!

Please, bring some tidings.

In case you need some ideas to freshen your list and/or want inside my holiday brain.

a lone voice asking its questions innocently, plaintively, into the void.

let connections define gaps

Look at all those holes…

durchbrochene Arbeit

overnight rain is ~ thoroughly thrumming ~ without meter ~ or rhyme

a symphony of sight – no sound –
as silent fires above abound

Is there room for classical expectations and contemporary frontiers?

good for your brain like music.

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