the Pit of Time
June 9th 2009 23:53
Still here, in the desert of dreams, merely a work in progress digging in the pit of time. The sun is in charge here, beating out the days for all of us chained to our oars. We slide across the sea of love, in little coracles woven from memories and intentions.
Sunrise is always unexpected, like a guest at a party of wind and birdsong, who stumbles across the horizon, splashing colour and light drunkenly over the chilled landscape. Noon finds it alseep at the wheel, slumped over the earth and the bush grows quiet. Roused in the late afternoon, the sun comes alive and sings with cadmium intensity in a final bravura cadenza.
Rocks laugh at me. This great family of stones shifts slightly in the afterglow of the day's retreat, content to mutter and mull over the latest news; that thorns scratch, ants bite, dust blows and moon glows.
The darkness caresses the earth's skin, as trumpets of cold air blow down from the mountains. Sleep envelopes the land with a warm cloak and words cease.
| 33 |
| Vote |















Add Comments









Read More



