Incantations

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Abstract

le represented in stellar vibrations~look towards me, tell me you are not the moon, ten thousand centuries old, olfactory senses arise, surprise your inhibition, let yourself be free in the atmosphere of love, essence of dew, drops among trees.tell me I am not the sun, shining on gloomy dispositions, ten thousand centuries old, we are told, our senses arise, despite it’s apparent nature, nature holds a steady voice in her dwelling, let the past go and look towards inward suns~grass, tenderly placated, meant for fingertips to run through, it is jovial at the thought of manifestation, whilst the amber sap of tre

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es agrees and perplexes individual thought, that something so ancient would love something, like us.the dawn breaks the mold of night, serendipitous, dissolving anxieties, filling one to the brim with a golden hue, as individuals are partially shaded~we come from a breed where nomads roamed, saturated by the flow of waters, following curving of roads in the deep desert, satiate with cumbersome thought, philosophers in their natural habitat.Gentle breeze descends upon us, we sway like the reeds, this gentle breeze.<a href="undefined">Anna Rozwadowska</a> 2019</article></body>

Natural world

~Antonio Mora~

look up at the sky, tell me you are not one star, looming and tempting to the human eye, fascinating humanity with it’s continuum's, larger whole represented in stellar vibrations~

look towards me, tell me you are not the moon, ten thousand centuries old, olfactory senses arise, surprise your inhibition, let yourself be free in the atmosphere of love, essence of dew, drops among trees.

tell me I am not the sun, shining on gloomy dispositions, ten thousand centuries old, we are told, our senses arise, despite it’s apparent nature, nature holds a steady voice in her dwelling, let the past go and look towards inward suns~

grass, tenderly placated, meant for fingertips to run through, it is jovial at the thought of manifestation, whilst the amber sap of trees agrees and perplexes individual thought, that something so ancient would love something, like us.

the dawn breaks the mold of night, serendipitous, dissolving anxieties, filling one to the brim with a golden hue, as individuals are partially shaded~

we come from a breed where nomads roamed, saturated by the flow of waters, following curving of roads in the deep desert, satiate with cumbersome thought, philosophers in their natural habitat.

Gentle breeze descends upon us, we sway like the reeds, this gentle breeze.