care – Poetic Meanderings

Rhythm

We have a rhythm; you know my waking, hear my breathing change, feel the weight lift from my side of the bed; no matter how gently I rise, you know that I’ve left, and you follow me. But you sense when I need to keep sleeping, slip out so that though your moving rouses me, Continue reading “Rhythm”

Wounded

Quick now, here, now, always — A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flames are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one. — T.S. Eliot, Little GiddingContinue reading “Wounded”