Under the shield of ashes –
forgotten passions.
Ashes add to the peat,
feeding the wheat.
Wheat multiplies and thus
it’s feeding us.
People with decent rations
have time for passions.
Passions that burn in flashes
leave only ashes.
Under the shield of ashes –
forgotten passions…
As you travel through England, you gain a visceral understanding of space-time continuum, for you can see time affected and distorted by space and vice versa, as you move between villages and towns, between pasts and presents, through pools of frozen time into the rapids.
Derelict boats always make me pause. There is too great a contrast between an inescapably stationary object and its purpose – that of fast movement – encoded into its very shape.
A globe of white chaos rolls and swirls
amidst white nothing.
Horizon shrunk to naught
and random motion –
disorienting mess.
Cold saps both energy and thought.
The storm has come
to take away the world
and gift you peace.
