" I am afraid of the cities. But you mustn't leave them. If you go to far you come up against the vegetation belt. Vegetation has crawled for miles towards the cities. It is waiting. Once the city is dead , the vegetation will cover it, will climb over the stones, grip them, search them, make them burst with its long black pincers; it will blind the holes and let its green paws hang over everything."
- Jean-Paul Sartre
One Day
crow come to me and say
son, rain comes
dawn those broken wings
and fly away
high into
the sweet summer rain
One day
empire will wash away
the roots all grow astray
the Wolf returns to prey
and the Ravens sing
the Sequoia is king
under the sweet summer rain
Heavy sleep lately, dark soft motel rooms, its always 4am, the same clothes slip on like skin. Thinking about the massive strength of the heart, how it could propel blood six feet into the air if given the chance. Thinking of how plants talk through root systems and help their sick brothers and sisters, sending along the nutrients or vitamins they are lacking through a massively connected root highway. Here I am , mathematical chaos calling out to my brothers and sisters. . . . Dreamt of you last night, consumed by moss, it was so beautiful.
1 comment:
I very much enjoyed this entry today. I have been feeling the breath coming from our plants and listening as their roots deepen and grow plump as I soak them with water. In my dreams last night my roots reached out to you and when ours joined they rested softly on a bed of moss.
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