see nothing

there is nothing so full of nothing as emptiness see it roll on vacant like a field of white or less or even less than that nothing waiting to be filled as time rolls by empty grows to fill all the world that you can see and for an instant every part is gone breadth …

the strength of affinity

he could not fly for he had no wings he could only stand more tree than bird affinity to wing desire only for the sky he lacked the means he was not of feathers he was bark and like the tree the strength he found to move was enough to shake the earth was just …

the wind thief

he built his trap from ground up into the air baited it in the shape of a cross released to spin at the first soft touch of the first passing kiss around around the shaft thrums a song of crunch and of its own turning he watches adjusting angles freeing movement until the turn is …

become breath

the fire is a transformation cleansed to a state of purity devoured to a state of ash blown away in a state by the wind ~ Poem #534 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

lotus promises for orange blossoms

this? oh this is only my orange tree I am bringing it out from the greenhouse can you smell the citrus rising into the air? I rose early this morning and glimpsed summer in the promise made by a water lily red or white or blue when I see the flower I know the lotus …

return (of the season)

the cold of the day marked the first real turning of the year autumn had come in buffets of bluster and a swaying of trees the chill set him to wood then to paper to kindling the first fire of the season sent a secret of smoke to explore all means of escape and he …

night

she walks after the light has faded in a long dress blue-black in satin decorated with the stars she wanders no direction all directions here and there everywhere flowing over all around and moving on all the time she is moving on sometimes a golden moon will lighten the way casting over all a glimmer …

the lessons learned (from the episode of the wine glass)

when the glass with the fine thin bowl fell from the careless edge of the table the decanter for a moment ceased to breathe as it tilted on its journey parallel to the wooden indifference of the table leg a spring in the mechanism of the door between kitchen and dining softly twanged almost horizontal …

a little skunk

scat! scat! get yourself behind me (scat! scat!) scat!     scat!     scat!     scat! I say get yourself behind me you’d better go (scat! scat!)   (scat! scat!) I turn myself around put you away beyond my shoulder don’t come too close don’t come too close I got the big guns I will blaze you (scat! scat!) …

an event

I look at you each glancing glance the beginning the start of my attention drawn your way I look away that glancing glance is over beginning looks ending looks instant looks away my event with you completed ~ Poem #528 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.