But tomorrow, dawn will come the way I pictured her, barefoot and disheveled, standing outside my window in one of the fragile cotton dresses of the poor. She will look in at me with her thin arms extended, offering a handful of birdsong and a small cup of light.
The spider, dropping down from twig, Unwinds a thread of his devising; A thin, premeditated rig To use in his rising, And all the journey down through space, In cool descent, and loyal hearted, He builds a ladder to the place From which he started. Thus I, gone forth, as spiders do In spiders web a truth discerning Attach one silken strand to you For my returning
"Returning" feels like, reads like, and looks like a celebration of a past and a future colliding together with gratitude and a divine strength. Your blogs, give me pockets of quiet peace and introspection to each of my days. Thank you for being "that cool" :).