two hundred and thirty one degrees: ‘whispering to a tree…’

Like the Wheel ~ The Tallest Man on Earth

two hundred and thirty one

daily, we keep. letting, go. of each, Other.

perhaps, the highest. form, of Love. detached.

or, the only. way, to truly honour. Life.

-

“ I will not die an unlived life.

I will not live in fear of falling or catching fire.

I choose to inhabit my days,

to allow my living to open me,

to make me less afraid,

more accessible;

to loosen my heart until it becomes a wing,

a torch, a promise.

I choose to risk my significance,

to live so that which came to me as seed

goes to the next as blossom,

and that which came to me as blossom,

goes on as fruit. ”

-

 

~ Dawna Markova

*

Please let the kindness of forgetting set me free…

two hundred and thirty degrees: ‘a burnin’ thing…’

Ring Of Fire ~ Matthew Mayfield

two hundred and thirty

a  friend asks

how

I loved so

but let you

go

-

and wished

fulfillment

bloom within

the arms of someone

else

-

the answer’s simple

I love(d)

you

-

and me

-

loved my self

enough

to close

the gaping

hole

and move forward

-

hoping happiness

for us

all

*

Bound by wild desire…

two hundred and twenty nine degrees: ‘your sense of wonder…’

I Hope You Dance ~ Lee Ann Womack

two hundred and twenty nine

Tireless, progression. Tic, toc. Time. Perpetual, motion. A movement, through. Space.

The universal, in. Breath, of life.

Surrender, then. To music. Swelling, in your soul. Free, limbs. To grace.

And trip, the light:

fantastic

*

When you come close to sellin’ out, reconsider…

two hundred and twenty seven degrees: ‘the dying leaves…’

Radio Song ~ The Felice Brothers

two hundred and twenty seven

Still, and staring. Far beyond, the fringe. Of field, and fell. Zigzag, lattice. Greening meadow, quilt. Stitched through, with wire. Blunt, and barbed. A brutal, beauty. Fading. Through the jagged, mystery. Of middle, distance. Toward, an endless. Open sky. Where daily, we. Wander, lost. And wondering.

*

Way out into the blue…

two hundred and twenty six degrees: ‘dewy-eyed disney bride…’

Fake Palindromes ~ Andrew Bird

two hundred and twenty six

Platinum, slips. Like a noose. Ring finger, heavy. A faery, tale. Wedding. Precursor, for a lifetime. Of hell. Trophy hunted, head. Sitting pretty, a gilded. Cage. With its husband, jailer.

Who twists, the truth. Spread eagled, on a rack. Set to break, your spirit. And turn, you. Into some, thing. Tame. But almost, dead. And he calls, this. Love.

*

Jesus, don’t you know that you could’ve died…

two hundred and twenty five degrees: ‘the quiet bleeds…’

Spider’s House ~ Califone

two hundred and twenty five

Hippocratic, oath. First do, no harm. Why is it, then. So many, do? Sometimes, I think. We give, trust. Too freely, to. Those in, power. Without question.

Well. I’m questioning, now. Blind sided, reeling. Sick of being, undermined. By someone, meant to help. Make me, well. I realize, I know. My body, best. And serve it, better. By choosing, an expert. Qualified, to listen.

Remembering, my rights. I stand, my ground.

*

Sit just as you are…

two hundred and twenty four degrees: ‘when nobody’s there…’

Delicate ~ Damien Rice

two hundred and twenty four

I would, submit. A bower, filled. With lilies. Languid, pure. Pale liquid, light. Like fresh cut, snow. Laid, late afternoon. Beneath, the boughs. Of an ancient, oak. In offering.

Open, untouched. Throat poised, but bare. In silent, song.

*

With the words you’ve borrowed…

two hundred and twenty three degrees: ‘leaning against you…’

The Lighthouse Song ~ Josh Pyke

two hundred and twenty three

What storms, raising swell. Blood beating, like spring. Tide’s full, turn. And flooding. Battering, waves. Of  particle, motion. Luminous, friction. Electrical charge, between. Atoms invoking:

life!

From primal, flame. These bright, blazing. Fires, of love.

*

Our beams will burn the clouds to beacons in the sky…