How crystal on one side, flame on another: one self-organizing, the other of order from noise. How both rivet the gaze. How depth must be hidden on the surface. Why what is hidden is often of no interest. Except when one is looking for something merely possible. Except where merely possible looms a vast atmosphere to contain whole cosmos, where the opus has no definitive form and is instead a series of attempts to reach it. What monster in the waves before the days of recorded history waits beneath the surface beyond detection, to re-emerge as who.
“to reemerge as who.” I don’t know if I should be frightened. 😉
Lol, I always know I should be frightened : )
Your use of words fills me with awe … to be able to even come close is stunning and it seems today you are beyond close. Bowed humbly, Amaya
Dear friend. Thank you. Hugs to you, sister.