itβs a cold, small little corner of the world but i love it so
itβs a cold, small little corner of the world but i love it so
we breathe, the world breathes, someone hands me a cup redolent with the smell of chocolate, spices, honey
standing in line for a coffee, watching passers-by shiver in the winter air, little breaths trailing up and out, little wisps of warmth and water
the world is this way; lives and places drawn together in a tangled skein. pull gently on the loom and a tapestry unravels to inert thread
it all matters, beloveds
there are no wasted moments
there are no coincidences
on the rim of the Mojave desert, there is a field of saguaros, limbs outstretched before the sun
today, the tallest topples in the midday heat, its innards dry and hollow, ringed by brittle needles
tonight, a man in tucson will pass quietly in his sleep, dreaming of warmth, sand, and open sky
and it begins again