something started in my soul, fever or forgotten wings

poetry arrived.
pablo neruda

And it was at that age...Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
I felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke free on the open sky.

when words don't seem to do the trick.

it is a bright, cold, clear winter night, and i find myself nestled in bed amidst piles of reading-for-fun and reading-for-school books. the radiators are hissing occasionally but not warming up the rooms super well. there are creaks and thumps in this old building; it is only early evening, yet it is quite dark and still.

2009 has already been...well...full. i can't seem to find the right things to say in the right ways. when this is the case, i usually resort to music.

there are some albums that i rely on that generally just...work. whether it is a night like tonight or a warm, long-on-the-dusk summer evening out on the back steps, watching the sky turn from blue to black....i find that these three albums by good ol' linford all smushed together in a playlist of gentle awesomeness are just right: unspoken requests, grey ghost stories, i don't think there's no need to bring nothin.

lately i step back and look at my life and see that i am wrestling for a blessing and failing to believe and returning to the altar to kneel. i am surprised and blessed every day by the community i've been given. we're stumbling along together.

and i don't think there's no need to bring nothin.