I remain truly yours to the cause of the heart to the matter at hand here and now split as a fine-hair V a moment prior to then one foot still ago in the eye-shift lost in the indigo on the gaze from here to there cc: Chagall 2021
Tag Archive: timeless
I am cold tall pine
Terns bank away in echelon
God braces mid-air
Chagall 2019
I smell so good after turning beds
of arugula by hand.
Chagall 2017
I hear music in wind and machines, voices in the trees,
harmony amid the sleek hum of gears finely-tuned,
who vibrate on cilia to haunt me, to trace intervals,
motifs of being, a soundscape to mark me aware,
you are the rest between motion, a buoy in time both
solid and bulbous, a weight against storms,
a body of reckoning to counter the onslaught
of melody.
Chagall 2017
The birds around my home are slower than norm
There is less urgency because of the love and abundance of riches here
Chagall 2017
I sometimes forget
who I am
supposed to be
until a prized wind
raises the scent of rain
off of mossy rock to me
©∞Chagall 2017
Please know that every cherita I will ever write
will be inspired by Celestine @ Reading Pleasure
Alas, so very few of my cheritae will ever be as good as hers. 🙂
Love & Peace —CC
if you and i were hummingbirds
you would never alight at the feeder
but instead would draw nectar pulsing midair wildly
frenetic and i would simply perch, sip, occasionally peek
over our shoulders
to the jet stream, my dear?
© Chagall ∞
Once in a landslide
I came to the edge
two steps away
from the fall
Carefully balanced
as if on trapeze
I prayed for
the crumble
To fall steady down
wind from anywhere
Anyone who cared could tell
I’d been asleep for a while
One final fingertip
scratches the ground
catching my breath
precedes free fall
then gravity
sinking, no water fills in the space
between me and the sky I float
down parting ways
Astride this time
unlike any I’ve ever ridden
must be the final wave
In crisp articulation
impressed on bottom sand
Running wild water angels
Awake in their trace
I lie down
© Chagall ∞
Lately I’ve insight into the timeless,
so subtle, perception of beauty of light,
of truth, of love, needing not yesterday
nor tomorrow to be, the clearest field
of space for mind to dwell, to frolic –
indeed to play and touch, weightless.
Light engenders objects with the characteristics
of the timeless, yet I’m certain the blind
sense forever, they can stop their day
as you and I can.
I shall not believe that those with five senses
are nearer to God than those of us with just one.
I believe sight is possible without eyes,
as music is sans ears, a sigh without a heart.
We are immersion-in-sensuality regardless
of the state of our senses.
It is night, only she by the ocean
where moonlight bathes in her hair,
the luster of shadow along sand
invites her to lie and rest.
In morning sunlight she arises
refreshed and timeless.
© Chagall ∞
I wonder in colors that she sees only while coming. I race
to stride beside her; we dapple the ground with the shadow of our gait.
Time is evident, a mist evaporates off hot gray pavers, leaves behind
a dotted line, a seam that closes, and is gone. I have always been destined
to love her. I am compelled to protect her from sadness and in so doing
I bring sadness.
Vast fields of primary colors heather, wash
and bleed with the passing of each new tone, sacred intervals;
we are naked, splendidly hued, we are eyes
imbuing elegant rainbow bodies.
She is laughter, healing balm
for the brow, under a tarp
in the rainstorm, we embrace,
human beneath fading colors,
just barely dry.
© Chagall ∞
Alphabet City 