Comme il a dit

Patience, my dear Watson.

Un souffle en l'air

I have a favourite painting. A reprint of Claude Monet's "Les meules a Giverny". It used to sit on my mantel quietly reminding me the unpredictabilities of life.

It sits in the storage now with all my other stuff, veiled to tackle dust. And here i sit in my own storage listening to the sombre tick-tock of clocks and pronounced click-clack of spiderman's solar dance, as i gather my fallen leaves forgetting that i am in the path of the mighty wind...

puff and i am gone!

Yesterday, i was happy in my own skin. Did you not see? Then came the gusty wind as it always does i don't know from where, tearing through my being.

Rain washes me out, but there are always debris. So i gather myself again and go about my task...

To all non-believers

they say, 'ah, you met online?'
i say, 'aye, we met online.'

inside a box on an lcd screen
yes, it was a friday night.
but nay, there was no sight

no sight, no sound, no touch
no taste no smell, nay, no such
but two minds stripped off of all senses

they say, 'my, what a quandary!'
i say, 'ah, 'twas but a rendezvous without a boundary.'

La magie, c'est seulement la leur, qui croient en lui.