suspended, wings spread
perched, trembling
on the edge of change
be it birth or death
ready to soar
to let go
beingless, void
ultimate
be it sorrow
or joy
the difference
is what????
perched, trembling
on the edge of change
be it birth or death
ready to soar
to let go
beingless, void
ultimate
be it sorrow
or joy
the difference
is what????
nessi The secret of it all is to write in the gush, the throb, the flood, of the moment -- to get things down without deliberation -- without worrying about their style -- without waiting for a fit time or place. I always worked that way. I took the first scrap of paper, the first doorstep, the first desk, and wrote -- wrote, wrote . . . By writing in the instant the very heartbeat of life is caught. "Walt Whitman's Camden Conversations"


Ness