Writer Between Worlds

Soulful writing about humans and places

Category: Nature

  • Quote of the day

    “Spirituality begins with work on our minds, which we are all capable of.” Matthieu Ricard, Buddhist monk, in The Quantum and the Lotus

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  • Quote of the day

    “Alan Wallace wrote, ‘Human beings define the objects and events of the world that we experience. Those things do not exist intrinsically, or absolutely, as we define or conceive of them. They do not exist intrinsically at all. But this is not to say that they do not exist. The entities that we identify exist…

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  • Weightless

    just breathe. breath cannot carry worries. breath dissolves all things into quiet. in. out. breathe. by the river the crows caw and the sheep across the water bleat softly, calling out to the dusk: ‘Baa, descend. Burn down the day’s ruins.’ smoothly smoothly the stream flows.

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  • And the green will be silent

    thick burdock by the river and the musical trance of water flowing – a brook with its bubbling eddies and thirsty loud birds – and our years quietly passing, quietly leaking into the humid ground like fat dark nourishment and all this while, the working bee will be gathering nectar unknowingly and the green will…

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  • The One

    everything feeds on everything else, we all dissolve into the bodies of others – a joyous play of alterity/sameness, we are all milk, bread, honey, meat, wine for this cosmic feast, this orgy of the gods. all of us just a fleeting, elusive, embodied drop of pureness.

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  • Spätsommer

    leicht, leicht und sachte ist der Wind der uns grenzenlos macht als er durch diese blaue Seele bläst und die lila Blüten wie lockere Saiten zum Klingen bringt – leise, leise, und süß-duftend und grenzenlos ist das Schweben, sein Strom nun gemäßigt und angenehm, angenehm warm.

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  • The apple (haikus)

    I found an apple on the ground today and I ate it with blameless desire. it was green and sweet-sour, and tasted like crisp juicy joy.

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  • Poemul din vis

    în pâlnia zorelelor zace nectarul zeilor, ele veghează noaptea tremurul lunii picurându-și parfumul în cosmos pe când eu mă topesc cu gândul la tine, secretând roua dulce a întregului. el, ea, ei, ele dorm, tu taci, respiri regulat; Totul tace. sub bolta arcuită, indigo – vibrația unui glob nesfârșit ce stă mereu să plesnească. (Notă:…

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  • Sommernacht

    șed goală la fereastră; cerul nopții e palid, plouă încet pe frunze, în pântece mi se împlântă un întuneric negru ca sămânța. crești, noapte de vară, am să-ți împrumut trupul meu. naște-te, am să-ți susur numele cu tandrețe. îmbată-mă cu mireasmă de tei și caută-mi lacomă sânul, am să te hrănesc cu lapte, dulceață fierbinte.…

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  • Heat

    this smothering. this incandescence. this slowing down of industry. this blistering disintegration into idle particles – placid, primordial, like the silence, pierced only by the terrified barking of the lone dog desperate to sound brave. this viscous, heavy blinding doubling down on your shoulders. this begging for a breeze, the impossibility of shade and the…

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  • Membrane

    today I’d like to be a poet – nothing more. slow, silent, wistful – pure organic membrane wrapped around this cosmos built from rock and cold. lonely pulsating membrane through which the unseen ripples.

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  • Night sky (haiku)

    nothing means anything but the night sky, all those dead stars still glinting.

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