Regrets for an Ox
Can the lamb really smell when the sun has set? Resist gravity and drift the waves to know. Remember to turn off the light or the ghosts will twist sandcastles into battles long fought and lost. Lost, always lost.
The book is open, yet the key has been lost. For the only regret of a transgressing castle is that it is unable to find a suitable nest for its regrets. One wonders if the true north of the windward sail can point towards a steady path in the dark forest. But the spaceship can only be spinning if the sky has opened up to the abyss. My nose smells the truth, but only when the mind will regret it.
The child sheds a tear, for the unopened package has stolen its cherries and there are no more clothes to wear. If only the rocks and dirt could clear the haze of redemption when all the milk is drinkable. The river needs to be emptied, you see, and only the farmer guesses why. She needs to bottle the message and throw.
Walk alongside the stone idol but resist abandoning your throne for a pasture burned by ogres of treasure and trash. The knotted rope will not keep you from falling.
Bonds forged by cinnamon dough dance on a thread. Mind the rain. Nothing exists within a quarter circle except a penny and a drop of sunshine. While a girl found her nevermore instead of walking in a wetland, 'tis better to keep one's feet dry than admire a shadow.
When your salvation has been gleamed in the fog, resist the siren's call and turn from the waterfall. Your fate is not destined until all futures are gone. Remember how even a squirrel can carry on...
The book is open, yet the key has been lost. For the only regret of a transgressing castle is that it is unable to find a suitable nest for its regrets. One wonders if the true north of the windward sail can point towards a steady path in the dark forest. But the spaceship can only be spinning if the sky has opened up to the abyss. My nose smells the truth, but only when the mind will regret it.
The child sheds a tear, for the unopened package has stolen its cherries and there are no more clothes to wear. If only the rocks and dirt could clear the haze of redemption when all the milk is drinkable. The river needs to be emptied, you see, and only the farmer guesses why. She needs to bottle the message and throw.
Walk alongside the stone idol but resist abandoning your throne for a pasture burned by ogres of treasure and trash. The knotted rope will not keep you from falling.
Bonds forged by cinnamon dough dance on a thread. Mind the rain. Nothing exists within a quarter circle except a penny and a drop of sunshine. While a girl found her nevermore instead of walking in a wetland, 'tis better to keep one's feet dry than admire a shadow.
When your salvation has been gleamed in the fog, resist the siren's call and turn from the waterfall. Your fate is not destined until all futures are gone. Remember how even a squirrel can carry on...
– Posted: January 10, 2010, 11:08 pm