Poetic Movements

Saints walked up to your door their hands hallow with light. They have been ignoring prayers and forgetting ways, but tonight the atmosphere felt of lavender and sage . On your doorstep saints paused and searched for the direction of the light; a light that from their hands had now faded. Darkness instead ruptured through the night so moving with it slowly their hands performed a silent dance. From West elusive shadows of their movements deluded the sun back up and the sun rotated from there to East for the first ever time. Their senses immersed saints tasted the illumination; in its uncanniness irresistibly bittersweet. The night now smelt more powerfully of lavender and sage enough so for those saintless to feel safe. ... I had never seen more unholy saints or a faster blooming sage. May 2022, Athens. Photo: Mediterranean garden detail; SNFCC, 7 May 2022.  

  The moon full melt into flames and  then it was hollow. 16 May 2022.

We’ve been made of salt & the dance of the waves. We’ve been fed by the fire’s prose under a transparent sky. We’ve seen pastoral lands rising from the vision of a simple life. How can I possibly write about the affections of the atmosphere? I’ve bitten my lips twice for the metallic taste of my mind dipp ing into the clouds. Exposed to air & sun our forgiven frustrations now climb mountains steep. I’ve been looking with a child’s eyes the island devouring the horizon afar. There are things we do things that keep us on foam above; things for the quality of life.   April-May 2022, Samothraki.