mother and child, a gentle ratio

boat, a gentle ratio

wild roses, two blades of forgotten grass and gradations of sky

the heron, roadside

if you slow your car enough
you'll see light still flashes off water and arrowhead
you'll see the heron still moves between dimensions
you'll see we haven't killed it all - yet

exploring the erotic, one crow at a time

shining into being

from out of the totality of an empty moment
the crow thrusts the black iron hook of its atoms
into the streaming particles of light
and screams, hooking its thin tin serrated voice
into my heart

everything is a wedding of things - "shines them into being" from d. h. lawrence's "wedlock"