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I’ll borrow the words if I cannot find them.
I’ll let it pick the wind up again.
I’ll let it pour and fly.
I’ll let it plummet.
I’ll let it rise again.
Long-standing.
Lucid visions.
Rooted.
I’m here.
Poem: Ornithogalum, by Ludovica Mazzucato
“But even more heavenly than the flashing stars are those infinite eyes which the night opens within us, and which see further even than the palest of those innumerable hosts.”
- Novalis, Hymns to the Night
Music: When you speak, by Okke Punt, Yori