Layers of Past Lives

With the intentions of pulling a new book off the shelves I looked out the bedroom windows out of habit and was surprised by the moon as it hung as a crescent boat, hazy in the partial cloud cover.

I do not remember at what age I first became aware of the moon— but its presence remains a constant source of inspiration, directly and indirectly metaphoric. A subtle off the cuff comment to spark a poem’s beginnings. Or a symbolic layering of archetypes as in building a temple, a reverence to the Unknown. The Hidden. The Presence.
31/ A joy exists peeling back spring onions in warm water— seeking the innder pale essence of being, layers of past lives removed slowly—


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