May 12, 2017

all the worlds within us

 




It used to be that I loved imaginary maps in story books. With my finger, I would trace their coastlines, their borders between kingdoms; I would dream myself away.

These days, I find worlds in the dust from old volumes of forgotten poetry. In the rush of the wind, the solemnity of hills. With the song of a swallow, the broken word of a woman at the end of her life, the emptiness of what once was a college classroom. People say fantasy and fairytales are escapism, but I wonder why they believe we're in one place to begin with. This world is full of worlds.




(And perhaps our selves are infact a whole raft of selves, bound together by our soul.)



art by the incomparable mirjana appelhof


6 comments:

  1. Oh yes, we're a raft of selves...
    My Tatterdemalion arrived today, so with gentle rain singing on the parched gardens, I've been lost in a magical place :)
    xx

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    1. How lucky for you, and in the rain too!

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    2. How lucky for you, and in the rain too!

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  2. Replies
    1. For some reason that sounds like a spell or a powerful wish - three yeses. 😃

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    2. For some reason that sounds like a spell or a powerful wish - three yeses. 😃

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