A time of moments that are intense and rest that is a bit restless. The sky remains dark with those long long dusky evenings that speak of many moments compacted, one upon another. That feeling of memory in the light, a place in the cycle revisited with new awareness, with history like an invisible pillar. It is still Winter… Awareness grounding me in this place, this nameless state so full of a myriad, diverse and changing memories … Too many to grasp … so to let go and be a moving part with a little bag of poetry.
That beautiful spongey silence with water heavy in the air and breath finding presence in the visual realm. The weather turns cold again and I must release all expectation of what will be, what is forming and what is already written. The present regarded as time passing is a thought that needs to be transformed. I am feeling a little lost with an underlying sadness that threatens to engulf me. It is a nameless thing colored by the small acts of destruction we commit against ourselves. As these thoughts gather pace again water waits and slowly rises, waiting for critical mass to force the release and the healing. The salty tears flow to cleanse the wounds of the body and of the soul.
Naomi Brosnan 