Rain-diamonds, this winter morning, embellish the tangle of unpruned pear-tree twigs; each solitaire, placed, it appearrs, with considered judgement, bears the light beneath the rifted clouds—the indivisible shared out in endless abundance.
#EnglishWriters
Long after you have swung back away from me I think you are still with me: you come in close to the shore on the tide
To lie back under the tallest oldest trees. How far the stems rise, rise before ribs of shelter open!
Delivered out of raw continual pai… smell of darkness, groans of those… to whom he was chained— unchained, and led past the sleepers,
That dog with daisies for eyes who flashes forth flame of his very self at every ba… is the Dog of Art. Worked in wool, his blind eyes
Turn from that road’s beguiling ea… to your hunger’s turret. Enter, cl… chill with disuse, where the croak… regards from shimmering eyes your… and the drip, drip, of darkness gl…
Hypocrite women, how seldom we spe… of our own doubts, while dubiously we mother man in his doubt! And if at Mill Valley perched in… the sweet rain drifting through we…
I like to find what’s not found at once, but lies within something of another nature… in repose, distinct.
It’s when we face for a moment the worst our kind can do, and shu… the taint in our own selves, that… cracks the mind’s shell and enters… not to a flower, not to a dolphin,
Though the road turn at last to death’s ordinary door, and we knock there, ready to enter and it opens easily for us,
The old wooden steps to the front… where I was sitting that fall morn… when you came downstairs, just awa… and my joy at sight of you (emergi… into golden day—
Weier Tagesanbruch. Stille. Als… hielt ich es für Seewind, in unser… von Salz, von baumlosen Horizonte… bewegte sich nicht; das Laub meine… regungslos.
In the Japanese tongue of the min…
This wild night, gathering the was… &n bsp; animal vines t… slapping my face lightl… in the gesticulations o… I recall out of my joy a night of…
Bricks of the wall, so much older than the house - taken I think from a farm pulled d… when the street was built - narrow bricks of another century.
“Adam, where are you?”   ; God’s hands palpate darkness, the void that is Adam’s inattention, his confused attention to everythi…