The earliest joys, at least those that can be remembered, are most certainly tied to the soil, beginning with its warmth and smell, its texture, and its dense, composite makeup, which changes with every handful. I was drawn to it, as every child is who is fortunate to live where it has not all been ravaged and paved over, and I sought, and returned, its intimate contact. I can say […]
All, in time, is washed to the sea, and is reborn in the welcoming. . [ 1674 ]
The ancient mariner, with a laptop hung around his neck. . [ 1671 ]
The far cliff is lost in the mist, like everything I thought I knew. . [ 1590 ]
When I refer to my body as it, I feel I am being unfair. But would him be any more accurate? Would her? And why my, when, if there is any belonging at all, the belonging belongs to the earth? January 5, 2022 . And Here Is a Child I love, too, those thoughts that almost rise, almost begin, then vanish, content to seek no substance or body, and whose […]
And now, what if, perhaps, courage is best expressed by turning off our computers? December 9, 2021 . I Set Sail Not Because I set sail not because it is a kind sea, or an angry sea, or a beguiling sea, or a wise sea, or a blind sea, or a lonely sea. For the sea is none of those things; and the sea is all of those things. Know, […]
William Michaelian 