but the who i am is that, by pd lyons


today when i sit at the little outside table the kitchen door in the rare gem of Irish sunny summer i think what if i really focus on those things that i don’t really know. like when those birds sound – instead of just concluding birds what if i allow for the fact that i don’t really know what they or that is – how could i describe what i call bird to someone who had no idea of bird? what is bird if i leave behind the concept of bird. what is sky? what is wind against what is skin, my body, what is the heat, what is sun? not just what we name things but what really are these so-called things? in that relinquishment of naming there is a kind of space a kind of freedom and what is this freedom? what is this space? not their names – but the who I am is that.

 

oh those days of sun and clotheses

oh those days of sun and clotheses

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