-
"
The tree has entered my hands,
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast-
Downward,
The branches grow out of me, like arms.Tree you are,
"
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child - so high - you are,
And all this is folly to the world.- A Girl by Ezra Pound
Show Notes
nothing except the impossible shall occur
lost, confused, afraid, alone; alive.
