Clouds and souls

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like clouds we float
from north to south
from day to night
from soul to soul

to paint the sky
from darkest coal
to wildly burning sunset light

Sensation of time

“It is the hour to be drunken! to escape being the martyred slaves of time, be ceaselessly drunk. On wine, on poetry, or on virtue, as you wish....”

"We are weighed down, every moment, by the conception and the sensation of Time. And there are but two means of escaping and forgetting this nightmare: pleasure and work. Pleasure consumes us. Work strengthens us. Let us choose."
Charles Baudelaire

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juggler's mind

the dance, the flux
the gentle connection
the wild meeting
of motions: the inside
winds drifting
swarming out
blowing
meeting
mingling
interbreeding
returning
the rhythm of hands
syncronism of minds
unison senses
spirits shared
wild transformation
drum beats, the whirling
the whispering, the wheeling
the dance, the cascades, a million
feetless steps
whisking
into us
into our breath
into our dance
into our gestures, our song
our meditation
our wondrously humming
harmony pulse

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