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“The noun of self becomes a verb. This flashpoint of creation in the present moment is where work and play merge.” Stephen Nachmanovitch
Burning With Buzzards Even as we carry the dream so strong is its fragility, we cannot assume that the wolf and the lamb will sleep together, such rare moments of thought threaten to break the landscape and tilt the plane of my life, placing me on the hook, dangling, pleading, until the shedding of a habit, a minatory look, exhausted facade burning with buzzards, letting go of meaningless meaning, and finding something true. Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All rights Reserved ®️
wow; beautifully woven words, Paul!
❤
David
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David – thank you so much, loving your response. 🙂
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Beautifully said, Paul. Love the last two lines, so true. 🙂
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Thank you very much Amy 🙂
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“Burning with buzzards” is a particularly evocative phrase.
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I suspect you felt it, thank you Liz.
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You’re welcome, Paul.
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Another thought-provoking post.
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Loving your response Patricia, much appreciated.
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wonderful imagery captivating with lots to chew on here Paul
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I read this after replying to you about duality and the last two lines of your poem amplified my thoughts 🙂
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Ah, I was on that thought and your poem reinforced my feeling, wonderful how that happens.
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😃
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I like the words “meaningless meaning”
>
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Wonderful, I’m glad you do, makes it all worth while.
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