'She silenced again looking inside herself. She remembered: I am the light wave that has no other field but the sea, I thrash about, slide, fly, laughing, giving, sleeping, but woe is me, always in me, always in me.' Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart

fleurs de l'ombre

Han Kang - North-Facing Room (from Light and Thread)

Hélène Bessette on sorrow - from Lili is Crying

under the bridge spring light melts away

rose leaves spell of light shadows writing on the wall

'My craving is my fuel, a journey in another life. My love is not made for happiness, but for longing. I am worth nothing to her.' -Olga Ravn, The Wax Child

You who never arrived -Rainer Maria Rilke (tr. Stephen Mitchell)

and in the end just waves, and clouds, and light

penultimate station undone by your light

by your pond at night fireflies dream they are dragons, stars shelter in trees

each dawn rooted in night

this path once not taken now walked every night

each night a field of moonlit waves

broken each morning dreams die from exposure

whisper your tiptoes to stir my sleep

the sky cracking like ice light itself a dream

midnight processions of fairy queen fire

submerged beyond the light the winter's dream we lived

till time and times are done

in winter's light bask bare

where years turn shadowstreaks deepen

drawn home retracing shadows

'People do awful things to each other. But it's worse in places where everyone is kept in the dark.' -Tom Stoppard, Night & Day

our paths uncrossed ghost of a chance

the silence of moonburst words lifelight unwhispered; the silence of your name carved in his tree; the silence of a leaf when it lets go

how this spring finds us - shy of light's embrace, our eyes wrapped in night

'The simple lack of her is more to me than others' presence.' –Edward Thomas, #BOTD (March 3, 1878)

trees dream the birds home in susurrating waves of murmuration