Thursday, April 07, 2005

First Post: Taking Flight

Here, the air soft, the wind draft from the nearby ridgeline coming fair under our wings, we take leave of the ground. We circle upwards on the thermals, rising until we survey the long stretches of desert scrub and sandstone bluff. It begins for us. We are borne on the wind and born from the ashes of all things past. Welcome, new/old thing. Welcome, soul that is both persistant and ever-changing.

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Somewhere Beyond the Wheel

A Haibun The sound of the hawk’s talons as they click against the cement floor is sharp and crisp. The raptor moves carefully, head duc...