the center does not hold
Aug. 21st, 2003 09:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
burnunitWalking a lot lately with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mrs_lovett and Screamin' E. Every day we walk. It's so good for us physically but also emotionally. I NEVER want to break my leg again. Nowadays, the days are getting shorter and that means it's often dusk when the stroller hits the pavement.
I love the dusk-- the difficult-to-pick-out faces of fellow pedestrians, the gentle smothering of the World with nightfall. The sound of Spearfish Creek, which in that light is just a texture, a smoothness touched by white, that emits a grand rushing noise like so many radios. O dusk! My heart breaks open on you and all things dissolve into a borderless cosmos. We own no center orbit around no attractor but drift together in seas of static. All things draw me to them. Each possesses its own gravity and pulls my eyes toward it to search out its distinctiveness. This tree, that face, the brown iron of the bridge-- my hands are eyestalks and I feel the world expand beneath my fingers until night night night sings at us and we slow down to let her catch up.
mrs_lovett and Screamin' E. Every day we walk. It's so good for us physically but also emotionally. I NEVER want to break my leg again. Nowadays, the days are getting shorter and that means it's often dusk when the stroller hits the pavement.I love the dusk-- the difficult-to-pick-out faces of fellow pedestrians, the gentle smothering of the World with nightfall. The sound of Spearfish Creek, which in that light is just a texture, a smoothness touched by white, that emits a grand rushing noise like so many radios. O dusk! My heart breaks open on you and all things dissolve into a borderless cosmos. We own no center orbit around no attractor but drift together in seas of static. All things draw me to them. Each possesses its own gravity and pulls my eyes toward it to search out its distinctiveness. This tree, that face, the brown iron of the bridge-- my hands are eyestalks and I feel the world expand beneath my fingers until night night night sings at us and we slow down to let her catch up.