This is not going to be a full look at the search engines, we will save that for another time when we need a lot of cheering up. But two things did catch my eye today, more for their poetic imagery and tone than anything else.
twisted tree roots
Now I can only imagine what led you to type this. You woke up feeling a little out of sorts; you looked outside and saw only concrete, steel and traffic. You could imagine the noise of the city while you were quietly sealed up behind the window and you suddenly longed for a walk in a forest, a park, a place where nature’s knotty membranes would speak to you more than the man made rush outside. It is disconcerting to feel so apart from our surroundings, a sense of not belonging, a disjointed oxymoron.
When you want to run your hands over nature’s knotty membranes
And not the salty city metal bars
When you prefer the shade of an ancient tree
over the plaster of another man’s house
when you prefer the rain soaked dark earth
to the slippery slick concrete
when you search for solace in twisted tree roots.
So for you there is this:
water child carry
I love the idea of a water child, some small innocent nymph like creature with webbed toes and effervescent skin. My imagination is running circles around this one.
Water child carry me
to your hidden world
of whispering reeds
dancing to the silent aqueous tune
water child carry our drenched thoughts
down deeper into your deep blue bath
But I think you mean the water a child carries, every day, on her back, her shoulders and sometimes on her head. The community of children who walk and fetch and carry water every evening from the broken pipe down the hill to the shack she calls a home.
For you there is this: