mary oliver, worm moon
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@lookingforspace
mary oliver, worm moon
“The opposite of love is not hate; it’s indifference.”
— Elie Wiesel
“I was scarred but I was not broken. Beneath my wounds I was still whole. Beneath my insecurities, beneath my pain, beneath my struggle, beneath it all, I was still whole.”
— Amy Harmon, A Different Blue
of november light + honey ichor
there is a special kind of gold saved for the darker months of autumn. i think that the sun must drink it down to stave off the numbing chill until his cheeks glow, the honey dripping down his chin, soaking into the ridges of the trees before he turns back over in his bed. i wonder if he dreams of her as the shadows stretch under his windowsill, if he glimpses her crescent smile as he closes his eyes, if he feels her hand touch his brow, cool like the northern tide before the stars hurry her away
— @thewanderingrosechild
Kristen Miranda // F. Scott Fitzgerald // r.i.d.
Jena Jun aka 赤鼻紳士 (Japanese) - Untitled, Paintings
SANDITON (2019-)
Jane Austen was really out there 200 years ago writing lines like “If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more” that to this day are still so swoon-worthy.
“The hours we spent together passed quickly, that small path behind the station where we saw the sun going down over the fields and the evening sky reflected in the ditches, and where those old moss-covered tree-trunks are standing, and the little mill in the distance – I’ll walk there again and think of you.”
Letter #103. Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh. Dordrecht, Monday, 26 February 1877.
John Berger, Will it be a Likeness? from The Shape of a Pocket
franz wright / ada limón / billy collins
“As June runs into warm July I think of little else but you.”
— Wendy Cope, excerpt of “From June to December” (A Summer Villanelle)
“You make me feel at home. You make me feel that the world is not strange … What kinder gift can someone give another one?”
— Anne Sexton, from a letter to Anthony Hecht, 1961, from Anne Sexton: A Self-Portrait in Letters (via litverve)
what more is there to life than loving the people around you & being loved by them
Somewhere, you smile,
tendrils of your aura shimmering, your heart shivering in respiration and the radiance of its sonar
as it echoes towards my coordinates, closer and closer, as the constellations spin in their dominions, stars and asterisms cantillating
a chorus, we are musical instruments correlating, synchronizing in time,
a synergy;
somewhere, you are volant in your sky, as I am in mine, and we rise toward each other, feathers of our wings
reaching.
© Anna S. 2022
Some beautiful garden🌸🌸
“I’m not everything I want to be but I’m more than I was, and I’m still learning”
— Charlotte Erikkson