Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
Dream Variation by Langston Hughes, from The Weary Blues published in 1926
change is never easy
but always inevitable–
often necessary,
life-sustaining,
hopeful,
paramount
the trees flowered and then stopped flowering,
the sun still rises and rains on everything–
another day after all
love is all at once very complicated,
and very simple
on a walk,
I take a camera and shoot pink petals
and tiny buds through an old iron fence,
my mind blank,
and somnambulant
I forget everything, and yet at the same time, I forget nothing
on a morning in May: tiny pellets of snow falling on tender grass and purple violets
at 5:30 am: the blue light of dawn, strong coffee and vanessa’s gaze
right now: is it that everything matters, or is it that nothing matters?
spanishwoods 