desert (n) desert (v)
I am thinking about the lion roaring in the enraging desert:
What is passive, immobile, asleep in the heart creates a desert which can only be cured by roaring.
The desert is not in Egypt; it is anywhere once we desert the heart.
Our way through the desert is the awakening to it as a desert, the awakening of the beast, that vigil of desire.
the desert is where the lion lives our guardian
“The lion roars at the enraging desert” [Wallace Stevens]
The more our desert the more we must rage, which rage is love.
We fear that rage. We dare not roar.
greedy paw, hot and sleepless as the sun, fulminating as sulfur, setting the soul on fire.
Happy Winter Solstice. The days now lengthen.
Live in the leonine passions of the soul.
–The Odalisque
(text excavation from James Hillman. Read unexcavated text here from The Blue Fire.)
I will write no more of love.
I will write no more of love.
Is anyone ever satisfied?
A Japanese poet, maybe.
When her lover (a jade bead
slipping along a silk cord
which is a path
white with almond blossoms
or snow?)
hurries.
My garments do not tie closed.
The stairs to my room are
dirty and who ever mounts them?
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