Tag Archives: rebirth
Hope, that thing unfettered, soul’s window flung open, to bask, to air myself, unabated, no past to claim or follow. Advertisements
Uprooted, prevailing agony folds the pagan nymph to a distant within; her position, untenantable, will alter according to blood-new spates of reign, coursing undisclosed seasons. (Photo by Anne Brigman)
Rebirthing, within fathomless hues, beyond the opaque rim, and vanishing, someone waits to claim your life anew.
I tell myself stories in the dark, Anya. Whether or not they help is either of primary consequence or none at all. Sometimes you have to walk through the boneyard in order to reach the garden. This what I tell … Continue reading
Psychically dismembered since birth, Grace walked her palms to her feet, and prayed that everything lost, in between, would return ritually transfigured.
It has finally come, bearing a fount of bruised petals, blood-pink and white and reigning silvered silence, the year the meek inherit the earth, the plight of sensuous souls flown within to claim tenderest grace on loan from God’s rimless … Continue reading
Sometimes you have to walk through the boneyard, in order to reach the garden.
Out of the ash-heap, she imagined something new would emerge, but when the wind blew and scattered the ashes to reveal nothing but scorch-marks upon scarred earth, she understood, with a great sense of loss, that form followed function only … Continue reading
And on the eighth day she was diagnosed an Artist, and saw that it was good and fierce and necessary, and went forth creating like a madwoman, rattling gravity shackles to the din of furor and crumbling towers within.
It is strange, and indelibly touching, how a sacrifice to the winter gods and summertime sadness co-exist as one and the same thing.