Poetry, notes, and drawings by William Michaelian
what a beautiful way for robert and i to go into this day. thank you, william. it is just on the verge of rain here. you know how the air gets like that - as though it rising upon itself? air. soil. hair. feelings. lightness.much love, williamxoerin
And to you both, Erin.Yesterday when we were busy planting, another rain was approaching, and it was just as you describe. And then it arrived, and now the plants are healed in. Magic is what it is.
it is raining here now. i just got in from a buddies place. he a load of last years wood cutttings and winter build up of stuff to take to the woods and dump. the rain, that spring rain that makes you want to be in it was grand. i stopped for a minute in the woods and took in the rain, the air and i remembered the photographs of your garden and the rain came down there yesterday and here today and how we are healed as well.thank you for this beautiful poem William.~robert
You’re welcome, Robert, and I thank you. It’s amazing how easy everything is when our guard is down. The spirit flies past the useless, creaking gate.
Will,i hope i can use a smaller version of your name...i recently came across your place of things 'recently' done or should we say undone(quite a name really)....the ascensional ability to imagine such images is what makes a poet unique...although i believe quite useless at the same time....in the scheme of things that are not 'recently' banned ...we play little...almost no role....
you have me weeping. and i know not where to cry. and so i walk the garden of these pages and water them. why not?have a beautiful weekend, william.xoerin
Hello, Manik. Thank you. I’m pleased you found my quietly evaporating corner of the universe. If there’s a thrill in Will, have your fill then send your bill. Although few address me that way, I don’t mind. I’ll join you, meanwhile, at Thelandabovewater.Erin, I had to smile at the way our previous exchanges were hijacked by Blogger. But it makes them all the dearer to me.
Your words here made me think of dancing, and then the title made my head play CSNY, singing about sta-a-r-dust, and glory. Thanks for a lovely piece, William.P
I appreciate it, Peter. And in thanking me, you’re also thanking Erin, because “Back to the Garden” grew out of our earlier exchange. And I like what you see and hear here; hear, hear.
Will,thank you for the honour....joining me at my place...although honestly i would feel a little squirmy in my shoes since wise eyes would be watching...english is not even my parent language...and i'm 23 years old...still living to what i will surely miss someday....there is a hippie inside every youngster i believe and there is an old man inside every hippie...but yes when you take a bow you want to be sure the ones YOU admire are clapping too...
Well said. We’ll grow old together and be young along the way. And if you feel squirmy in your shoes, remove them; that’s as far as my wisdom goes.
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