When I die, don't mourn or pray, instead I feel, I'd respond better to subtle puzzles you might ponder whose solution is me ...and I would pop on the other side, if only for a moment... tethered in your space yet unbounded still as no ripple on a pond deep within the closed eye of you surrounded by no time surrounded by all time such is prayer, such is death? (no god is God, as God is god, you whisper, then you ponder, and You?) And I pop for that moment cc: Chagall 2021
Tag Archive: soul
Sometimes you do – Yes, you do!
– a switcharoo.
© Chagall ∞
I have an odd dynamic with my father-in-law:
He is a 90 year old man but a very new soul, whereas
I am merely half his age but my soul has traveled twice
by thrice his. Our interplays are often quite quirky.
© Chagall 2017
I am secure in the dark tunnel
your hair frames about my face.
The nightroom is violet,
moonlight rouges your cheeks.
Gentian fills the air, we’re children, we whisper excitedly
into each others ear, ticklish, warm, and sensuous.
We move invisibly, pepper-silk sheets, timeless postures,
silhouettes against the open bay windows.
Night breeze blows cool streams across the bed,
refreshes me, each time I rise and fall.
I stare at the grace of the arc you cut,
at all of the napes where you crane.
My straddles throw you in shadow or allow you to be lit,
depending on where I am, between you and the light.
And when we perfect the flip, you’ll do the same for me:
twin souls dancing to the strains of a forgotten eclipse.
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
Alphabet City 