Restoring a Stradivarius

I haven’t posted anything in a long while because, it seems, each time I have this year, someone has passed, and/or someone criticizes me for being too emotional. So I have turned to reading more, finding comfort in the words of others, and building stamina in the realization we are all together in this awareness of beauty and infinity. No one thing is a small thing. The following is a poem by one of my favorite authors, Iris Orpi… each time I read her work, I feel that kind of kinship — the observance of timeless joy in each thing, no matter if you can only touch it with words.

Rampant and Golden

Kiss me along the rays
of my inner sun.
Call your serenity after
the ocean blue of my soul.

Remind me again
that I am infinite.
I have cast my future
in faith and fever dreams.
I have a lithe spirit,
but the rushing of days
and the dragging of nights
have taken with them
parts of my song.
If you can please
sing it back to me so I can
remember the words.

Love me
to the limits of awakening.
Lay your head against the night
whose stars are my eyes,
whose fragile stillness borrows
from my dark, silver-edged fears.
Get lost again in the city
peopled by all the ways
I am beautiful.

And I promise to belong to you
like I have always belonged,
deeper than the skin
and larger than these four walls.

“Red Winds” by photographer Mihai Dascalescu


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