| The wind chants its hymn, a quiescent stream trickles, a white worm curls, tears well up, and dry. Someone’s breath ceases, a radio squawks the news, a heart yearns to love, the sea churns greens into blues. Sometimes I wonder what it is that I know? Use my head, use my heart? How far should I go? Can I trust my senses? Can I sense what I trust? Are my words just borders of my ignorance, made of dust? I sleep, then awake, feel happy, then I ache. I grow still--to find myself turning on a wheel. Comes pleasure, comes pain, the sun shines and it rains. The white worm curls. I truly know change. |
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2001, Carrara statuario marble 29" x 18" x 14" For sale: $12,000 |
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