.
.
Cold darkness surrounds
.
Slipping inside my heart
.
My shivering mistaken for desire
.
Doubt hides in my discomfort
.
Sleep providing your heat
.
You turn away dreaming old hungers
.
It no longer matters
.
I return to my paints
.
Ouroboros becomes ice crystals
.
Encircling the half-moon
.
Dead leaves rattle
.
My bones rattle
.
Is my joy painted by memory
.
In one hand a paint brush
.
In one hand a gourd rattle
.
The rhythm calls me back
.
I have wandered too far
.
How can I warm the moon
.
My blood is cold wind
.
.
Bear … 01.02.2015
ⓒBearspawprint2015
.
.
[…] pas de la lune une douce chaleur ; Tu la crois lumineuse, or grisâtre est la sphère Dont te semble, de loin, voir la blanche […]
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[…] pas de la lune une douce chaleur ; Tu la crois lumineuse, or grisâtre est la sphère Dont te semble, de loin, voir la blanche […]
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The moon is warm enough because we all send it our prayers!
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❤ Sweet Wonderful Willow
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You keep me going !
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Uh oh. Don’t go too too far ….
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But it is true! 🙂
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😀
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without old shamans
warming the moon for us all
would we still exist?
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Nice haiku.
What do you think?
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no thinking involved
the moon exists right NOW
we are so loved♥
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