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Buoy the population of the soul
Toward their destination before they drown
~ Robert Pinsky
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helma object publisher


Saturday, 24. June 2006

Permanent Center of Gravity



Heart in summer
Walks into in fields
Of wild poppies,
And becomes a bottle
That holds the old ink
Pressed from
Gauzy skirts of their petals
Waving in the wind;
One continuous flag
For Hypnos,
The god of sleep
In whose arms
Loveless fitfully sleep.

It is only when
The bottle breaks open
And every Beatrice dips
Her hand right into
The heart of the heart
To reveal the silence
That abides within,
Does the heart find
Its permanent center
Of gravity
To fall into, fall towards.

Written in response to this photo by Elle




Image-ned Word

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