We have been friends for the longest time on cyber.
Like those kindred others pushing the creative and technical limits to word-sculpting, we bond because we love poetry.
Though unlike some others, we bond because poetry loves us back, too. To the point of exhaustion.
Typical conversation goes –
- So much desperate spirituality going on these days, wth?
- Yeah, pass me the ventilator.
Weeks later…
- How’s your breathing?
- Funny you think I am still breathing.
A month later…
- Well I did say yes finally to an invite for an interview but no I am not talking about (my) poems…
- Okay, let's talk about Zen, poetry...
-
- ?
- Pass me your ventilator.
Some days, we wish there were other ways to get over this tireless scavenging for spiritual bones that will lead us out to the free and open,
breathing space -
And just when we least expected it, afflatus came in one fell swoop.
Deus ex machina in the form of a journal – a spiracle redefined, or reinvented to fit all conceivable notions of venting pores, holes, apertures…
So those of you kept long in the wait may finally…
Breathe.
Welcome to Spiracle!
2 comments:
Amazing, the miracles that emerge somewhere out there in the buzzing night/day of the global virtual world!!
Such an inviting piece -- both humorous and wise. There is no greater wisdom than wisdom delivered with a sense of fun.
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