Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?
Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air –
An armful of white blossoms,
A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned
into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,
Biting the air with its black beak?
Did you hear it, fluting and whistling
A shrill dark music – like the rain pelting the trees – like a waterfall
Knifing down the black ledges?
And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds –
A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet
Like black leaves, its wings Like the stretching light of the river?
And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?
And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?
And have you changed your life?
Oct 1, 2024
Related Recs
from a writer i follow on twitter. linked to their profile. posted only a few minutes ago but it's already done something crazy to me. i love when people create things from their own life at the exact time i am enduring them
"i racked my brain for weeks over how i could have breathed to keep you here. my conclusion is that there is none"
Feb 22, 2024
🌅
In the morning, you’re dazed due to the impact of the soft sounds of the river. Just like a tune designed just for this moment, noises enter your ear and remain constant. It is your choice to walk away from it as when you start taking a few steps towards ‘escape’, the streams will not be able to reach you anymore.
Just stare at it and enjoy the peace for a minute. Enjoy the gentle warmth radiated from the big star above you, embrace the tickling breeze that kindly kisses your cheeks. As if it were a group of fairies, the luminous forms of glitter huddle together then fall apart by the motions of gravity. Against or willing, they carry out their moments independently and flow with time.
You close your eyes and for a second, life feels wonderful. It feels like you are living in its peak and there is no route for returning back into gloom. Take a few breaths in, decide to let loose and fall on your back without damage. Realize that it would be best for you to keep it sealed for a while and fall asleep.
When you finally wake up from the accidental spending of a few hours, your receptors do not detect much light from the scenery now. The Sun also decided to rest and gifted the Moon, introducing a variation to the glint.
Now, you feel calmer than ever. Nothing really matters, it’s only you and the dark, present in this living moment. The river still giggles, but you can’t really see its smiles anymore; the only motion you detect from it are the parts that rely on the Moon. After-all, the Moon doesn’t emit light by itself and is also dependent on the Sun’s attitude. However, the circle wouldn’t have been drawn and presented if it wasn’t for its existence so who are we to judge?
Jan 29, 2025
I read it in first grade and it accelerated the development of a profound sense of consciousness and independent thinking and fortified my existing love for animals/nature/the environment. I was already an overly existential child and it helped me learn to focus on beauty and joy in the face of death and suffering!
—
The leaves were falling from the great oak at the meadow's edge. They were falling from all the trees.
One branch of the oak reached high above the others and stretched far out over the meadow. Two leaves clung to its very tip.
"It isn't the way it used to be," said one leaf to the other.
"No," the other leaf answered. "So many of us have fallen off tonight we're almost the only ones left on our branch."
"You never know who's going to go next," said the first leaf. "Even when it was warm and the sun shone, a storm or a cloudburst would come sometimes, and many leaves were torn off, though they were still young. You never know who's going to go next."
"The sun seldom shines now," sighed the second leaf, "and when it does it gives no warmth. We must have warmth again."
"Can it be true," said the first leaf, "can it really be true, that others come to take our places when we're gone and after them still others, and more and more?"
"It is really true," whispered the second leaf. "We can't even begin to imagine it, it's beyond our powers."
"It makes me very sad," added the first leaf.
They were silent a while. Then the first leaf said quietly to herself, "Why must we fall? ..."
The second leaf asked, "What happens to us when we have fallen?"
"We sink down. ..."
"What is under us?"
The first leaf answered, "I don't know, some say one thing, some another, but nobody knows."
The second leaf asked, "Do we feel anything, do we know anything about ourselves when we're down there?"
The first leaf answered, "Who knows? Not one of all those down there has ever come back to tell us about it."
They were silent again. Then the first leaf said tenderly to the other, "Don't worry so much about it, you're trembling."
"That's nothing," the second leaf answered, "I tremble at the least thing now. I don't feel so sure of my hold as I used to."
"Let's not talk any more about such things," said the first leaf.
The other replied, "No, we'll let be. But—what else shall we talk about?" She was silent, but went on after a little while. "Which of us will go first?"
"There's still plenty of time to worry about that," the other leaf assured her. "Let's remember how beautiful it was, how wonderful, when the sun came out and shone so warmly that we thought we'd burst with life. Do you remember? And the morning dew, and the mild and splendid things..."
"Now the nights are dreadful," the second leaf complained, "and there is no end to them."
"We shouldn't complain," said the first leaf gently. "We've outlived many, many others."
"Have I changed much?" asked the second leaf shyly but determinedly.
"Not in the least," the first leaf assured her. "You only think so because I've got to be so yellow and ugly. But it's different in your case."
"You're fooling me," the second leaf said.
"No, really," the first leaf exclaimed eagerly, "believe me, you're as lovely as the day you were born. Here and there may be a little yellow spot but it's hardly noticeable and only makes you handsomer, believe me."
"Thanks," whispered the second leaf, quite touched. "I don't believe you, not altogether, but I thank you because you're so kind, you've always been so kind to me. I'm just beginning to understand how kind you are."
"Hush," said the other leaf, and kept silent herself for she was too troubled to talk any more.
Then they were both silent. Hours passed.
A moist wind blew, cold and hostile, through the treetops.
"Ah, now," said the second leaf, "I..." Then her voice broke off. She was torn from her place and spun down.
Winter had come.
Sep 8, 2024
Top Recs from @gabbylinder
🎾
this summer, we’re starting yoga, we’re learning a new language (being bilingual is now the standard, you need to know at least three to be truly chic), we’re going to concerts just because the tickets were cheap, we’re going to museums (especially the weird ones), hitting up the local library to ask for new recommendations, whether it’s a surprise or based on past tastes, we’re painting, collecting and collaging, sewing and embroidering our clothes, re-learning the harmonica, playing chess with strangers online and at the café, we’re taking up tennis and pretending it’s not just because of challengers. the only way to find what brings you joy is to try.
May 19, 2024
🍷
full of bread and wine and guilt
Jun 11, 2024
⭐
the guy at the store should know you, the man running the halal truck should know your order, your barista should know your name and you should know theirs, you should have a borderline flirtatious banter going with a bartender at your favorite dive bar
Jun 14, 2024