Friday, November 7, 2014

A matter of mist


Those times you are suddenly outside yourself,
a matter of mist, spirit in the flesh, as if dance were lip
and lip were wish, you know best, that granted this,
no better chance, to bless,
exists.



4 comments:

Stream Source said...

I feel your joy that wrote those words ... thank you.

Cartwheels on the beach. Becoming the dew on the grass. Kissing the butterfly's lips.

William Michaelian said...

Just as Bless rhymes with Yes.

I looked up from the book I was reading, and there it was, that familiar chill.

Lorraine Renaud said...

I wish for it, chill and migraine as well...

William Michaelian said...

Just as pain explains the breaking of its shell....