the tempest, one month later

by walterdoege

since the cyclone passage my house is well, and me too…the books are all around the house…the place where I sit down on my chair for reading, meditating and so on is surrounded by books…this wall of books and papers and annotations and avulse writings and music is my own proctection…some things that are so important for me, like photos, little writings remarks, manuscripts!, this wall  I just rebuilded the day after cyclone…and even during the cyclone passage this corner of my libraryloungeshlternest remained untouched by strong rain water…by my right side a little light spot, other little books and other souvenirs from days gone by…at my left side my music devices, little and simple devices…I like cds players…and music I listen with headphone…this break of my wall is still a remarkable experiment…the bricks are books and during that late night some parts of thw wall falled…I take the meeded actions, but at the same time I contemplate this falling wall moment…I felt that only me could not fall…everything around me can fall, me not…just for rebuilding the wall and today the arrangement of this late night cyclone remained the same…the books are all around my house, even in kitchen…some books sustain other book hills…some bigger books sustain book mountains…crossing this landscape everyday I notice that it’s good…I remember E. Presley performance on Hawaii ‘Lord, now you gave me a mountain’…walking to the top of the main mountain I see her…a soft moonflower…like myself, some flowers like the night, the stars, the moon, the booggie, the dance, the joy of writing my lovely letters for you…yesterday I received some gifts…and my tears were as a rain of petals of flowers…I like the night, I like the moonlight…I alnowledge that the light of the moon comes from the sun…and I feel me closer to the moon…my love and my loving come fro us, you and me…love is a free sentiment…a highway…a longing path…full of joy…so, now I can write that the human goodness is love…I don’t know what love is…I love and I am beloved…loving is not a belief…loving is closer to trust, and yonder…for the long run of living I keep on living and my love is not of mine…spring arrived…soon, the summer…and I use at the top of the mountain in a full sunny summer days my sunglasses, my sunshade, and the protective sunscreen…skin is a deepest on me…and I count the time with my imptrovised sundial…the sundial is absolutely ecological, but I guess the  three ecologies is another issue…I like very much the summer, the summernights, the fairynights of every night, but when I look the stars flying I make a wish and stay at lounge for the another autumn arrival…I like the summer, I like the spring, I like the autumn, I like the winter, but autumn is my mistress