Inside the Soul 🌒

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I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you – Nobody – too? Then there's a pair of us! Don't tell! they'd advertise – you know! How dreary – to be – Somebody! How public – like a Frog – To tell one's name – the livelong June – To an admiring Bog! Emily Dickinson, 1861

Her presence is like wind on the face: flowing, not demanding, refreshing, not overwhelming. Painting: Claude Monet, Poplars (Wind Effect), 1891

"I am a book I neither wrote nor read." Delmore Schwartz

What waits, also listens.

Light knows where to sit.

The sky keeps its secrets.  The branches practice patience.

Change never felt like a sunrise. It always moved like water, slow, quiet, reshaping the stone.