e.e. cummings, i thank You God for most this amazing. read and listen.

(inspired by amber)

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

by every star

Greeting the voluptuous end of summer, and remembering future deep sighs of bracing chill–any transition, really, isn’t always seamless. Sometimes it looks like a snaggle-toothed rope bridge over a bottomless canyon or a child’s big need for complete and comfortable. The tomatoes are heavenly, though, and the tuberoses never stop singing the scent of simply sweet.

it is by every star a different time
and each most falsely true

Everything yanks on me (and the worst thing is unfulfilled words) so i have to organize my yielding–the most efficient and the best for you–but my soul gets empty that way.

Living alone with people is the worst thing.