The pendulum swings upward again. Remember a sky of polished stone. The tree of many birds. Cracked sidewalks underfoot while perched alone at the end of the earth. How hard it is clawing our way up to have a look around. How sweet the first taste of syrupy mania when we finally do. Tap your foot to the mighty dirge. Scream ’til you’re hoarse inside. Run until your soul leaves your body and then keep on running until it returns. Record your dreams and re-read them until you understand. Untether yourself from what you think matters and wait for a sign. Pay attention to the crows circling above at dusk. Their presence is no coincidence. And neither is yours.
this just in: subtle schedule shift forces new cracks in worn shellac
Posted by birds fly on November 5, 2010