The Curling Things

 

It is the curling things that encourage me

to move the perfect symmetry

the fibonacci

of chaos that licks me on the inside

and spurs me into action

It is the hardness that looks soft

and the elongation of rational thought

I am bound to the unravelling of design

I am clung

and sticking like

feathers to a bird

I am moving like honey

struggling to stay

glued to the spoon

I am the tip of a shell

spiralling like ice-cream to the limitless blue dome

above

the illusion of seeking

the stability of air

we are what we see and  my heart is breathing

space

SONY DSC
more art please see http://www.artofkundalini.com

6 thoughts on “The Curling Things”

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