sometimes when quiet winter bright enough silver opened windows incense shadows a way of moving without effort a way of breath without effort a way without ache karma non-existent freely offered equally without effort
a time of true light a time of true nature where now the thousand years of darkness?
here’s the thing – the people prayed ; deliver us from evil, from oppression, poverty, war, pestilence, all this misery. And hearing their prayers they were sent an answer. But it wasn’t a king, an army, a weapon, a political party, not even a religion – but rather with all the miracle and glory their prayers were answered with a child.
when I was a kid, Christmas was an exotic time. A magic of scents, tastes, and a certainty that anything was possible :
Christmas
heavy dark seeded bread brown bottled beer you can’t see through dry sharp salami lumps of malachite shaped into eggs glass beads ready for stringing sheets of tin strands of copper damp dark tobacco wrapped with yellow paper messages from gypsy horsemen distant relative to our mother
