and it can have no bounds, you know

it can have no end.

you can take my hand in the darkness

darlin when you need a friend.

and it can change in shape or form but never

change in size. well the water ran

deep my darlin, where it don't run wide.

joanna newsom

and so,

all is and was and will be and still i am all right with it. a shade of blue and a lucid light have saturated this day. and being no one but myself i can only speak for myself; all the same i have a thing to say. put your ear to the ground. the cattails twitch and rustle. it is more than a sound. i can feel the pull, i have been up the path, (to the right, out of sight, and then all the way back,) i have known how it feels to want to be all things. a mountain, a stream; i have wished to know no feeling. i spent one year sweating and reeling and smiling sidelong through a haze at my impetuous self. i craved and contrived. dusty with orange chalk i sauntered a meandering path of dirt.i was shot with feathered arrows and struggled back to my cave to nurse my limp for several months. i was broken open and made new in the suffocating grasp of the truth.

i am all right with the woman i am. the indigo sky makes me ecstatic. it is all right if no one comprehends. i am an admirer of orchids, i am the poet of my own hand. put your own hand to the earth and tell me if it feels warm to you. it feels warm as blood to me.

i like my berkeley bedroom, it is a fine space for writing.

and for hanging my growing kimono collection.

the light is very pretty in this room almost all of the time.