Tags
2014, 5*, being, birds, bone, breathing, Carol, grey, notice, openness, rooftops, sky, spine, trees, wind, windows
I find
you find your bones
on the outbreath
when the lift
and possible float are relinquished
and the spine can straighten
and resume its work
C
then
you can let open the windows
– let all the spirits escape –
and cast eye ear and notice
over the rooftops with waving trees under the grey sky between bird-flit
before and
during the
next breath
————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–
being wormhole: the Buddha head in an antique shop
birds wormhole: the en-gentled / end of a wan / writing retreat
breathing & C wormhole: in the middle of silence and heat:
grey wormhole: the declensions of constant possibility throughout times
openness & windows wormhole: 1963
rooftops wormhole: sounds // suddenly / stop
sky wormhole: ‘“ruddy crows!” / said my Dad …’
trees wormhole: a splash of fresh water
wind wormhole: tag cloud poem V – draft-ness
mlewisredford 
There is a flutter in my chest at the thought of this….fleeting…
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yogis in Tibet used to cultivate that flutter in the chest and attain the siddhi of fast-walking (lung-gom)
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Ah, I am still,
as ever, slow
walking, and
returning as
all ways lead
to other ways
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… such that for all the journeying, no distance has been covered
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un-fluttered
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de-turned
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re-tuned
and
un-strung
to sing
silent songs
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with all the space of open volume so that everyone can hear if they had but eyes
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Funny, but this is still on my clipboard, from sharing on a post only moments ago, on mywordpool:
“Colors blind the eye
Sounds deafen the ear.
Flavors numb the taste.
Thoughts weaken the mind.
Desires wither the heart.”
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… I thought I’d see what was on my clipboard …
‘in the middle of silence and heat:’
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…rests a quiet
kitchen…
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I was thinking a launderette on a sunny Saturday afternoon
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