in memorium

Life will always be dwarfed by death. In fact, life arises, frail and brief, with all its attendant joys and sorrows, from death. Perhaps one could say that emptiness is the great mother, giving forth life, silently nurturing, without bias, all who thrive within her...

we are in the dark

We are in the dark, unknown, ignorant, Floating down the river of time, Rooted in the fields of space, And everything passes and nothing ceases Except, soon, ourselves When at grave’s edge We will see that we lived in the great light And never knew it. Jean Wahl...

Song of the Golden Tree by Claude Margat

One day the mouth named the never lifting mist the wordless support the imageless breath how long ago how long? Then came this other day a thousand years of desire and sorrow between sky and path grass frozen beneath a white wind and in the eyes of long histories of...