two hundred and thirty seven degrees: ‘I promise you this…’

A Little’s Enough ~ Angels and Airwaves

two hundred and thirty seven

Pyrotechnic, dawn. Ascends, though mist. And flame. Sun burnt, morning. Like a phoenix. Or maybe, a love. Letter, scrawled. By the blushing, sky. Caught, in cloud. Crumpled, sheets. She rises, glittering. Liquid gold, dew drops. Sweet connubial, dreams. Of bliss.

-

waking early, I take

t h i s

as my omen:

your heart, gathers

( near )

*

Green trees were the first sign…

two hundred and thirty six degrees: ‘I need a sign…’

Calling All Angels ~ Train

two hundred and thirty six

Tonight, I have no. Words. So another’s, will. Have to, do.

-

“ I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know – unless it be to share our laughter.


We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we love and want to be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love.

-

For wanderers, dreamers, and lovers, for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful. It is for those who are too gentle to live among wolves. ” 

~ James Kavanaugh

*

I won’t give up if you don’t give up…

two hundred and thirty five degrees: ‘waiting for gravity…’

No Urgency ~ Eric Himan

two hundred and thirty five

ever wonder

why

we hurry

so

-

much

of our time

spent

racing through

life

chasing

-

d e a t h

-

who comes

too soon

anyway

-

the distance

remains

( constant )

though we  choose

the quality

of our journey

-

how much

more

might we

taste – feel – see

traveling

( even

a little )

-

slower?

*

Let love teach a lesson you shudder to learn…

two hundred and thirty four degrees: the lost decree…

Holocene ~ Bon Iver

two hundred and thirty four

I know no building

fit to house

the heart

-

the vaulted sky, set with stars

my temple

the raging ocean, fathomed blue

my mosque

the primal earth, ash and dust

my synagogue

the fiery sun, bright consecrated light

my cathedral

-

my soul belongs

in nature

*

 It’s part of me, apart from me…

two hundred and thirty three degrees: ‘remind me…’

Blue Pop Art ~ Zero 7

two hundred and thirty three

sometimes nothing

makes sense

chaos swirls

raising doubts

I miss

the wood

focused fiercely

on trees

forgetting

to see

the whole

-

do you

ever

-

stop

-

for a moment

to breathe?

-

or lose yourself

to the vast

indigo ocean

of sky

-

and drink

its everlasting

peace

*

Well it’s all up from here…

two hundred and thirty two degrees: ‘all the time…’

Do You Like To Read ~ Strand Of Oaks

two hundred and thirty two

Skies veiled, in mist. Or smoke. Obscure, horizon. And mountains. Wrapping, the valley in. An ethereal, cocoon. Like angel, wings. I gave, the wrong. Book. Wanted you, to have. ‘The Vinter’s, Luck.’ Instead.

Fate, finds it. Now. As I muse, closing. The last, page. Again. And wonder, what. This, is meant. To mean, exactly.

*

That we are worthwhile?

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…