bursting by hey, there you are on Flickr.
untitled by olivia bee on Flickr.

Do you see the space between our bodies? 
Barely a hand, hardly a breath,
it is the space mountains and rivers are made of. 
It is the beginning of oceans, the space
between either and or, both and neither
the happiness of forgetting

our names and the happiness of hearing them
for the first time.
Li-Young Lee, Trading for Heaven

3 notes
aftermath by untidy souls on Flickr.
 
P. Spring by James Fitzgerald III on Flickr.
 
(by neon tambourine)

For just one second, look at your life and see how perfect it is. Stop looking for the next secret door that is going to lead you to your real life. Stop waiting. This is it: there’s nothing else. It’s here, and you’d better decide to enjoy it or you’re going to be miserable wherever you go, for the rest of your life, forever.
Lev Grossman, The Magicians

6 notes
Stephen ShoreRoom 219, Florida, 1977
serialdoubter:

"We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer: that you are here; that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?"