Flames to the Center
Poem for Saturday and a World on Fire
Flames to the Center seeing the flames collapse my mind began to wander to a full moon perched just outside the spire my floating window —I had no signature ( my mind ) a vast cathedral with air blowing through the center to wilderness— no relief in that moon or in the fallen angels left to play in mitochondrial dust a small delicate thought snakes a perfume veil over my face— I AM
Longing for G_d and for a life where the impossible is indelibly stained on restrained yet agile heroes Max Wolf Valerio; April 17, 2019; Rev. March 13, 2026
I’ll “see” you again soon. Create, even in a world of threats and confusion — art clarifies and energizes and — makes new.
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“a vast
cathedral with air blowing through
the center to wilderness”
Love this. Thanks Max.