Monday, March 30, 2009
Of Rain and Air, by Wayne Dodd
Maurice Ravel, Piano Concerto in G major, II (Martha Argerich, 1990)
All day I have been closed up
inside rooms, speaking of trivial
matters. Now at last I have come out
into the night, myself a center
of darkness.
Beneath the clouds the low sky glows
with scattered lights. I can hardly think
this is happening. Here in this bright absence
of day, I feel myself opening out
with contentment.
All around me the soft rain is whispering
of thousands of feet of air
invisible above us.
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4 comments:
don't know where to start from but have to start somewhere, i feel like i can't get enough of these writes! absolutely lovely!
thank you, stanis, it is good to hear you find something that moves you here!
...i can feel the contentment, it's like a de javu, completely beatiful!
Riza, my friend!! So wonderful to have you here! We must be online at the same time, as your comment just appeared - I like when that happens, makes me feel closer to you on the other side.
I'm glad you like it - that's what I felt reading it, too, a calm, deep contentment.
be well, friend, and visit again!
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