looking up this morning

Morning seeming pale
across the western wall
of hills that pall
and hold back the sea

magpies wander aghast
shrill calls feral terror
No wing of weight
The sky will bear

barren aeries greet
eyes soar form such light
soon set with some
quiet and wonder if not fright

Swiss Colony of the Slippermen

Well its been a long long time. I have been busy with things that seemed worthwhile in the moments i wasted, but not so much anymore. I guess you could say i have been in a self imposed writing exile. I have just felt that i needed to take something in to be able to put something out. Like i was stuck on the same themes and ideals.

I have been reading some Peake and Keirkegaard and have landed back on Leibniz door step. And trying to figure out just exactly what I am doing with all of this. Why I don't feel content in my skin and all that. Struggling between the lazy and the manic.

But around this time, I feel a pause coming over me. Like a few slower moments with friends would sit well. Though i dont find any calling.