filidh & the dance of sorrow

Beautiful writing here at Letters from a Salvaged Sparrow.

letters from a salvaged sparrow

Dearest,

Remember how I told you of falling in love with the words of one who wove them from apple branches? Is love over the wires a smaller beast than that which breathes in flesh, has gender, rots and corrupts? I know it is not. When the approval of another can move you like a storm does wildflowers, when the hand is enticed to lay pleasure on paper for a hungry mind … it is enough. It was enough.

This is my song:

filidh & the dance of sorrow

a marionette

submitting

to a cante jondo

I know too well –

(I sing it even in winter slumber )

I perform the rite

In ciphered steps

across this unforgiving stage

(may angle sar te merel kadi yag)

once,

I was moved,

moving you,

to the rhythms

of my faltering hand

once,

when your tortured dance

moulded

me from

the indrawn…

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