searching for phrases

by walterdoege

to sing my prayers…to sing you praises…to send you lovely words…through wandering and akward writing…if I my search is for perfect phrases, I can not write..art is imperfection..’.l’ouevre’ is imperfect…the text, the ‘écriture’ is imperfect…opened to my human condition…one expression of myself…here, at this point of this writing, the hard begining is just behind..what am I reading?…words, words and words…what am I writing if not words, words and words…if words are like bricks, I can build phrases with these bricks…I am going back home…slowly…I just builded a house, I am turning on it a home…and writing is another home…where I can dialogue with you…I feel me somehow a worker putting brick after brick on that house, and with intention and good will, I hope, another home I do…searching for phrases as pieces of walls, roof, ground…lovely words, lovely phrases…to tell you stories…some narrative of histories…the past is alive in the present, and the futures too…as project, wish, reinvention and building…these three leaves, these four seasons…summer nights, summer days…the promise of the autumn…here, where I live…my house is in good stand, our home too…constructions…structures for well being…what I am…what we are…me and you are travelling along a green and peaceful prairie…sun at days…moon and stars at nights…some rainny days…some rainny nights…sensing the water…past waters move actual mills…so, we stay at a near tree…stay for a while…it’s a so blissful happiness…we can stay till tonight…it’s rainning…we can listen the music of the winds…the sound of a fairy mill…a blessed water…our nightly bread