17th Entry, July 24th 2008, 4th Installment "To Move a Bloom"
"i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands" - caption from EE Cummings' poem "Somewhere I have never travelled" as outlined in the 1st installment of this series, see entries 14 through 16 for more information In a place within the single nature of all things, where the wants and needs of that thing meet, love sometimes appears washing the zenith. Love is both a want and a need in and of itself but it is beyond those things as well. I see it as the catalyst that makes one aware of itself peaking the senses and priming the soul. Eyes dilate, breathing increases, heart rate elevates, habits and appetites alter as if subconscious and a small curious ache appears; logical or not it is none the less quite real. In the caption above the idea of not even the rain having small hands stood out like a pin prick of light in a dark...