no point in pointing to the past
each momentum passes upon
coming
in the space between
arriving & leaving you
learn to breathe
to breathe is
to fall
loose into mattresses
of surf
full of air
bubbles
drift to shore
with the slow tide
as light as moon go
in the sky
and on the sea.
Sitting on the wooden bench under the lilac,
while Chloe plays in the age-old schoolyard,
Papa awaits the second coming, not knowing
what to expect, unable to recall the first coming.
“In the space between arriving & leaving you learn to breathe”
Like the eye of a cyclone. All calm.
It’s a strange and wonderful period. A sense of laying down and surrendering to the unconscious for just a moment.
I sometimes sit on the beach dreaming my life away. Often there will be no seagulls as company. As a lonely single seagull arrives, I wonder if it is the first of many or the last of travelling mass.
However history and future play out, I have embraced that special moment of nothing.
Great work Joe – absolutely love this.B
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Thx b. Have spent many days on the beach with gulls!
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That’s sweet and generous of you. Didn’t mean to change the perfection. Words fell instantaneous, like chiming chord.
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No worries. About moon go. I thought moon glow, the song, the moon, but I’ve used it, and the verb go here seemed better syntax and repetition of the how to do something theme.
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Lovely.
Couldn’t help my Haiku obsession:
every momentum
passes upon coming in
the spaces between
as light as moon goes
in the sky and on the sea
with the slow tide drift
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Yes, the flow is there higher focused, which goes with / creates momentum. Good eye, good ear!
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