What if what we thought we knew as obvi- ously true was false and clocks were not set forth by time but time passed pushed by throngs of ticks and tocks and days were not dic- tated by the speed of spinning rocks for spinning rocks were dancing to what ever length of day we […]Read Post ›
We’re all born blank, but as we spin a lens creeps brinkwards, sharpening our lives on us bit by bit. We yearn to fill with simple light, a golden spiral, smooth and tight to bridge us from core to brink. But what we get, in part, depends on what the great computer has in store […]Read Post ›
A poem that’s topical all too often these days. We are falling to pieces right when we need to be holding it together. Here’s hoping the great sustainable utopian omelette rises from our breaking eggs!
to count on my hands the times I fall into these linguistic traps that I dig to properly hinder my scramble for land I’d need more fingers I’d need more fingers infinitely.
Beneath a strip of sky so pure your faithful eye can glean what lies beyond your world, and in the few unfurling, drifting swirls of white decipher secrets hidden there – you hide amidst the swaying reeds and watch it closely. Cloaked in grey it stands so still and long on legs so thin a […]Read Post ›
Don Redwood 