sleep under the open sky where clouds resemble symbols of our old ways
Tag: literature
the old gods never did talk much but considered every space in existence sacred
blue hour ends when the swallow family circles the field thrice
a strange thing: a moth is only complete when it finds its flame
ritual for concern: when shadows gather beneath the same tree without explanation
like magic: eyes follow the mist until it disappears
the sun goes dark and somewhere within a prayer for rain is offered
an uninvited guest: the phantom of calamity’s stage
souls warmed by the light of the cratered moonface
early september: a casual dance of light and haze
elancharan gunasekaran 