not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Saturday, April 13, 2013

spring


hyacinth, you say, bloodroot, ranunculus, ghost flower;
the body leans forward in expectation,
the shadow beneath the mind hovering over what is,
which is not what is expected;
snow drop, wood-rush, dutch crocus.
all life long we are blind like this
the obscurity of april snow
obliterating this day's tableau.
you, you say, me, he, she,
as though you know what you are talking about.
god, you continue, pointing over there,
wandering knee deep and blind.
 

7 comments:

  1. holy shit, Erin, there's a poem. I think you got all of that one.

    (tho I do think of snowblind as the last word, as ordinary blindness is implied)

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  2. i think you're right, william. it should not be blind, but i'm not sure about snowblind either. i'll think about that;) that's precisely what i don't do before i post. i don't take any time at all editing and sometimes not even reading over. you'd think i'd learn a little patience but it is taking its time finding me.

    but william, can you believe?! this photo was taken the other day. friday we had a snowstorm while i was busy thinking tulips! the world is never what we expect, even when it seems to be. i wonder just how oblivious we are to the truth while we form language, memory and expectation at every point of experience. what we begin with as the bridge toward, often becomes the bridge away from.

    xo
    erin

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  3. You brought tears.

    Oh Erin, the photo. The photo! Why does my mind immediately want to know how you did it: The snowflakes-become-lines.

    Then the poem, and the tears from it, after the last two lines. I agree with WAS, you got every bit of this, it got you, and boy did it get me.

    "... wandering knee deep and blind" are my favorite words today.

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  4. i know how it feels... remember my post with the snow, a while ago? :-)

    and today i had prepared a post which says, i believe, things along the same lines... then i came here, and saw this, especially the poem, and my heart opened, like a flower, no, like a bird, wishing to fly towards you.

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  5. We name the world and will it to exist!
    How intricate our existence with our language with our imagination with our ever changing perspective...

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  6. this is spring around these parts - late n'lashing

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  7. April snow looks its best in one of your photos Erin

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"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))