Forsaken angels, and their angelic kind of love, which isn't really any kind of love. And right now in this moment is such a good place to be. There is violence in the love, and all that it asks for is more. It doesn't accept some easy and therefore some kind of phoney kind of love. And we stand here in all of this weakness, nothing speaks of truth, it wanders and it sways, and it deceives, after it has tantalised, it is not to be trusted, it is a liar. And then, love with its particular violence stands apart, and it turns from judgement and it is real. Love has its own aggression and its own violence, it does not stand in a passive place, Its eyes are searching for a place that is further on. Right here, in this moment, nothing seems to live, there is a waiting for the day to change or a waiting for tomorrow. And angels, are drifting, and all they ever seem to do is wing. I know an angel, and she is love

The Question Within the Silence

That sweet taste, both mellow and poignant, where the impossibility that you had imagined, glares back at you and questions the soundness of your mind. You stand helpless in a corner, your movement is all within the changes of your mind. You turn into yourself, looking for inward guilt. And inside of you, recognises the challenge just as you have suggested it, and in the silence dwell your feelings. They bob back and forth, on the horizon of decision. Beauty would appear to be intact, and colours your silence, and this perceived beauty has nothing to say for itself, but to speak to you. And you discover that you have to open your ears, to give yourself the chance of understanding, and the challenge is to understand the question within the silence, and to answer with both heart and mind.