~ catkins on the wing ~

spring has come and i could no longer resist. to sit on the post-winter grass, sharp yet soft, to breathe in the scent of river. to find catkins that recall all the homemplaces, all heart-warming thresholds.
a seagull landed. a butterfly fluttered. a bumblebee flew and disappeared. a duck looked around. a beaver swam. an ice floe floated to my shore and turned, and then floated further.

i sang going through my playlist. recalling the well-known, saturated riffs and passages. serenity. sunwarmth. being.

green angels of bieszczady mountains. by the edge of feather.

i'm being heathenly unproductive. lost the count of days. i guess i'd use some resocialization after the last weeks, too. mind somewhere. laces on the wind.

flutter. flutter. gone.

~ surprise ice ~

brother, are you watching me
i've been walking a straight line travelling from town to town

amazing how a song can diametrically change its meaning if only you switch focus from one line to another. how this dichotomy can run down your spine one day - that surprise ice can become something more and different from what you've taken for granted.

there are nights when splintered mirrors which you resurrect with afraid fingers give a better picture in the end. there are nights when you sense for the first time the closeness to becoming both strong and tender. this is a night like this, a night when i sat down at the desk without a purpose and suddenly found myself in this trace. the brush landed in the remains of my tea that soon became blue, violet and chaotic. accident and running while took over.

i am surprised with myself, and with ice.
time of shiver, yet i can't help myself from daring. done pale days' homework.