The Noon Prayer. Layered morning gone, all gone regarding the field beyond the window. The grass leaves twist and bow, a grand procession holding flashing white candles across the liquid field, incited by the wind. And the layers lay over and over… Hear the whisper of the wind over the field? It transcends and to…
Day: August 23, 2020
Morning Haiku – 42
If time ran backwards Would sand moonwalk back into the egg timer bowl?