[Are you feeling it? The crashing waters. Water is all around us. Inside us. The waters are not gentle. They are ferocious, eroding, obliterating. If they hold everything, then they hold the absolute trenches of rage, fury, wrath. The waters that destroy and refresh. The waters that renew. Turn to the waters. There is no turning from them.
What do you think of the difference between “--” and “—”? I used to prefer translating the double hyphen to a longer dash, but I have been feeling lately, perhaps I should preserve them when they appear that way in the transcription. There seems to me a different feeling between them, even if they prescribe a similar length of breath. Recently I was tasked with casting hexagrams using the yarrow stalk method. In building those images, one arrives at either a broken line (yin) or an unbroken line (yang). I can’t help but notice the similarity. Does the double-hyphen//broken dash lend more of a yin quality than the yang of a longer, unbroken dash? Do you experience any of this difference?~ ] Received 10/6/2026 | 3:49-4:07pm
Companion Missive #41 - REST AND BE BLESSED (4/11-18/2024)
REST AND BE BLESSED
[On April 8th, I and my beloved partner were joined in union under the dark-lit alignment of the Sun & Moon during the total solar eclipse in Vermont, our marriage officially pronounced right around the close of the totality at 3:29pm. We were surrounded by love: the love of those around us, the love we held for those around us. We remain surrounded by …
Listen to the Recitation:
THE PLOT IS SURFACING A-line becomes circular Perennial waters, break the surface Leviathan, behemoth, Atlantis Crawfish -- bring something up For us, to see what may Come closer, look a'field Et fies et sanctus Sanctus sanctus -- sanctA The waters, the waters! Crashing rising breaking Waves overtaking Levels fought in a form pre-vail Castalia, the dry becomes full A pool of old spring waters The eternal spring, falling Into the surface, breaking Reflections of separateness, broken Frames pre-forming prefacing An arch of thousands of years still Standing in the forum, harrum Phanes panes, searching through The dark down under the clear Exiles, measuring up -- do not tempt me Foul beast! I will not avail you Will not fail you -- failure does not abet me I am the best version of myself In every moment I have never not been: Wily and wry, why -- I cannot say Which way the wounded road will Take more than we can give it A rut does not a road make, nor A cloud the passage of sky; I sing into my hands and bend in To the water, submerging myself Immersed, I am that In the howliness of a moment Unspun to find, the spool Finely spun bone, broth of soul Stuff me full of it, full of myself Until I burst -- this feeds my soul Does this feed my soul? What doesn't feed must go Away I go, that which is fed doesn't feed I feel behind, always behind The target, being what I am capable of The accomplishment of an illusory self Which has already achieved And has nothing to achieve
