The heart is not emergent.
Snow banks in the barn's shadow on which wrens hop. In a certain light a maple tree's limbs appear silver. You feel the syllable count, and you learn to feel it by giving attention to it, which includes counting it: haiku.
A plan to build kites. Vague worries as a sign of increased acceptance of abstraction. Are we historically unable to notice what our father did or is it something else?
What constitutes practice? A certain way of hearing in the dark that works best at three a.m..
Well, they say that where the problem is, that's where you'll find the solution. Got siblings?
Oh trust me, I've been to the "how to tell the muse she's not your muse anymore" rodeo.
Hills in Vermont, a sense of what was possible, and how this in which it is all possible, regardless of hills in Vermont, is possible.
Can we be clear now about the distractions? Over Margaritas, over dry champagne before walking to the lake to break up?
What Freud said about Oedipus basically.
The intention to accept and not interfere is fundamentally salvational. A messiness, a dissatisfaction, a confusion, a "so forth."
Who is all the light there is for me.
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