The Two Heart-grey Puddles: Two

Reality Is Not Simply There, It Does Not Simply Exist: It Must Be Sought Out And Won.

The Two Heart-grey Puddles: Two Mouthsfull Of Silence.

You're Rowing By Wordlight

Reachable, Near And Not Lost, There Remained In The Midst Of The Losses This One Thing: Language. It, The Language, Remained, Not Lost, Yes, In Spite Of Everything. But It Had To Pass Through Its Own Answerlessness, Pass Through Frightful Muting, Pass Through The Thousand Darknesses Of Deathbringing Speech. It Passed Through And Gave Back No Words For That Which Happened; Yet It Passed Through This Happening. Passed Through And Could Come To Light Again, “enriched” By All This.

Tall Poplars--human Beings Of This Earth!