Photo by Joao

Like birds in their nest,
Are ready for rest:
And sport no more seen,
On the darkening Green.

• from “Echoing Green”, in William Blake's "Songs of Innocence"

With dust
of earth, and of night
that is yet to fall
at the corners of his eyes,

He walks with his shadow
down the lane to sleep,
for now, with his back
resting against the shadow
of the darkening, but
eternal green.

...

Also consider listening to a performance/ service over at BBC of choral Evensong . It has been soothing to my body and soul on an evening that finds me sick.

Dante in his Hell
Had nine circles
For the damned.

Here the number is twenty two,
Inverted, going up into the sky,
Arranged in a building painted
The color of shit.

Here a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/tatianacardeal/122850747/"old crawl up the death spiral,
And the young begin to swell up
With the seeds of despair.

Look at Mother! How beautiful
She is in the candle light!
How tasty this meal will be
Salted with her fresh tears!

Look up and you will see
Vultures circling, circling.
Look deep into these eyes
To hear songs still unsung.
So let's join them and sing.

Few lines in response to, and for, Tatiana Cardeal's striking photographs on Prestes Maia.

Photo by Joao

In a quick glance,
turning away or towards,
a question arises:
is that the neck of a woman
or the stalk of a hibiscus?