I sing this to my dog like ery day…
To swing on the spiral of our Divinity and still be a human...
and when you miss someone/something, more than you can stand, i hope you find a place to sit."
Being an artist means: not numbering and counting, but ripening like a tree, which doesn’t force its sap, and stands confidently in the storms of spring, not afraid that afterward summer may not come. It does come. But it comes only to those who are patient, who are there as if eternity lay before them, so unconcernedly silent and vast. I learn it every day of my life, learn it with pain I am grateful for: patience is everything."
Rainer Maria Rilke
I miss the nights
Sultry summer in Harlem on your bed too small
Under blankets in BK in my bed too old
The squeezing, embracing, the touches that lingered until separation
Healing times, for me
I cling to the memory
Brooklyn, New York City, where they paint murals of Biggie
In Cash we trust, ‘cause it’s ghetto fabulous, life look pretty"
- Black Star, Definition
Frida Kahlo at Xochimilco, Mexico 1937
Photo by Fritz Henle
He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion.
The only creatures that are evolved enough to convey pure love are dogs and infants.
Isn’t that the truth!
I can’t even OMG too cute