Often, I write all day long with white ink on white paper,
late into the night, until it is all I can do to feel the letters
curving to earth from the tip of the pen & then, I fall asleep.
Dreaming of running, or maybe driving in a car the color of water
& I wake the next day remembering nothing & I gather the stack of
paper & a pen of black on the desk in front of me & the words begin to
dance over the page like long legged insects across a still lake
& the words in white whisper behind & underneath the new day.
If there is any secret to this life I live, this is it: the
sound of what cannot be seen sings within everything that can.
& there is nothing more to it than that.
you see more depth.
in black and white.
than in color.
the sound of what cannot be seen sings within everything that can.
i hope you will join me.
today and every friday.
join me in this space to.
shake off the ugly.
bask in the moments.
breathe in the truth.
that is there.
if you just look.
thanks for joining me.
invite your friends...
let's make the movement to