dans le sable des mots / in the sand of words

“To see the world in a grain of sand, and to see heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hands, and eternity in an hour.”   –  William Blake

 

“When words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain.”   –  William Shakespeare

 

“All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the fest of the mind.”   –  Khalil Gibran

*

dans le sable des mots / in the sand of words

my hands plunge deeply

this insatiable quest

finding the right verbs,

adjectives and adverbs

the preposition

which when assembled

like Rubik’s puzzle

lead me to what is missing

yet words like sand are

flexible

capable of embracing

the power of

la mer

or sliding through my

fingers

so strong, she restrains the oceans

 large ships skim

across their surface

she cradles the ravaged

cities swallowed in the

tsunami’s of time

concealing their final

resting place

so delicate

a breeze thrusts them

into oblivion

starfish, shells the

similes and metaphors

dans le sable des mots

*

bisous,

léa

Moisson: Chasse pour la survie (Harvest: Hunt for survival)

“In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.”   –  William Blake

“The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest.”  –  William Blake

 

Moisson: Chasse pour la survie (Harvest: Hunt for survival)

Winding through the hills

And vineyards

Durban Corbières to

Embres et Castlemaure

A thin mist

Hovers above

Vineyard flames

Reds, gold, brown

They will go out

In a blaze

Soon vines

Bared

Hibernating

Do they dream

Of the glorious nectar

They have given us?

Or is their reverie

Focused on tomorrow’s

Fruits?

I taste new wine

Woodsmoke

Rising from chimneys

On a slope

A restored

Bergerie rests

Above the vines

At its apex

Le sanglier (stuffed)

Rêves  of

Autumn fruits

Reminding us

Of their presence

Not that the

Chasseurs could forget

Fattened on the vine

Revenge extracted

At the crack of the gun

Parceled off to the tables

Of each hunter who took part in

La chasse

Man and nature

Co-existence

A fragile line

We each dare

Cross

***

Bisous,

Léa