Sunday, August 9, 2009

January: Year-day 26

January: Year-day 26 Yesterday, heavy snow, to bring us wonder, seeds that will blossom into water, and-- words you may think ought to tear me asunder who lives not by logic but sleights of hand. Yet, though I'm no Whitman, seeing the best, nor a Jeffers from his Tor, seeing the worst, but an Englanded Salchert, of cooled zest, for both fine reason and magic I thirst. If apples fatten against me, and birds tremble my confidence, the game of math at its rough frontiers makes my nerve-ends dance; and the game of myth unbuttons me. Path, trail, highway, street, certainty, and chance: synthesis,the direction of/ my words. -

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Rhodingeedaddee is my node blog. See my other blogs and recent posts.