A New Sun Rises

Today a new sun rises for me;
everything lives, everything is animated,
everything seems to speak to me of my passion,
everything invites me to cherish it.

— Anne De Lenclos


cummings on love

this is one of my favorite poems about love. there are more,
but this one always comes to mind, and it makes me happy.
last thursday was our wedding anniversary, and it has been a
beautiful and cherishing one, so i wanted to dedicate this
post to tim. 🙂

all my heart & love to the best husband there ever was! xxx


love is more thicker than forget
more thinner than recall
more seldom than a wave is wet
more frequent than to fail

it is most mad and moonly
and less it shall unbe
than all the sea which only
is deeper than the sea

love is less always than to win
less never than alive
less bigger than the least begin
less littler than forgive

it is most sane and sunly
and more it cannot die
than all the sky which only
is higher than the sky

~ e.e. cummings

Like the Sun


Rippled glass and an image of


reflected in a single drop of water

struggling to keep in line with the demands of gravity.

What do I see?

A face. A face like the sun, warm and indeterminate,

changing so rapidly pinning down its features would be

insurmountable. Like the sun: surrounded by a golden halo.

A heavenly body with a crown of glory. (thinking

about the lack of compunction with which

this world of oh-so-substantive veils and shadows

so blatantly lies to us.

And we believe It.

c. Mary Kathryn Gough, 2/16/04


my favorite time of year is Autumn — not for the leaves
{undulating flames} but for the Air: electric,
crackling with the negative charge of storms to come
until my lazy lungs open and my body hums.

I love it for the incomparable clarity of breath
~ [empty], and the tingle in my skin that births
Anticipation —

The air changes, and I feel it in my bones as
stiff leaves rustle and
hiss out of the trees.
The wind brushes my face, cleansingly
full of sparks.

Everything speaks danger and ending now,
while life Endures,

c. Mary Kathryn Gough
Autumn 2009, edit1: Nov3,2011 (work in progress)