Disconcerting but so subtle. I love how the irregular lines work with the images to keep us just slightly off balance. Then this line "I felt the air lean heavy," slows the rhythm and the heavy consonance makes the words sit palpable on our tongues.
And you're picking up on the weight of certain words, which is frankly awesome! I've been exploring this more in the last few weeks, and whilst it may seem odd to read, some words do sit heavier on the tongue, make our mouths move in different ways, and this can directly impact the sense of what we're reading
So pleased you caught all the breathlines and pauses too Moll 💛
Yes! That ghost on the tongue, when you are silently reading, but your mind feels the words in your mouth, is so powerful, and you do feel it with some of the greatest writing. It's one of the skills I want to have one day! One day...
A beautifully crafted compact cosmic fable, gentle, musical, and quietly devastating. The shift from playful rhythm (“the sun said hop… skip…”) to the heavy stillness at the end lands beautifully, like a myth collapsing into grief. Bravo Mark!
I really loved the rhyme in this poem; it flows so naturally.
When the sun stops and the moon stays dark, it’s not just the universe that goes silent, but something inside us too. The stillness speaks louder than any sound.
Thank you, Dawnithic for your great words and reflection.
The cosmic part of this, that it's not just about the universe — it's what happens inside as well that matters — is something I had a feeling would resonate with you.
Stillness can indeed speak louder than any sound we hear or feel.
You've picked up on exactly what I was trying here, where punctuation and some words can act in a somatic way, and affect how we breathe into and even between the lines.
That inhale and exhale is 💛
I'll be covering this more in this week's episode on somatics, out later today - Before Words Arrive — and then to also go further into the practice of it, so we all learn together.
Mark this is beautiful. it reads like a quiet unfolding of the world itself, both gentle and profound. I love how the sun and moon aren’t just celestial bodies here, but voices and witnesses, moving with a rhythm that mirrors the heart. The way you let silence linger — “in the quiet, inside us” — is haunting and tender. It’s the kind of poem that stays with you long after the last line, reminding us that even in stillness, the world and our emotions are deeply alive.
That's such a beautiful reflection and I love that you've caught the embodiment of the sun and moon, not just as narrators or voices, but also as our witness.
Thank you so much for bringing your words and spirit to my writing, and bringing your grace with them.💛
You picked up my little nursery rhyme feel to it and then also the transition to something more cosmic! ooooohhh! 😊😊😊
It's interesting how small cues, a word, a rhythm, can lead us into thinking of something playful and childlike without mentioning much at all, e.g. hop, and a few short lines.
I love that you mentioned rhythm — it’s what sneaks up first~ “Hop” feels tiny and bright at the start, then somehow opens into this huge, starry quiet.
It’s funny how one small word can carry both play and wonder — like a child naming the sky before learning what stars really are~ adorable in fact~
Oohhh
It worked then 😄
So pleased you caught all the breathlines and pauses 💛
Disconcerting but so subtle. I love how the irregular lines work with the images to keep us just slightly off balance. Then this line "I felt the air lean heavy," slows the rhythm and the heavy consonance makes the words sit palpable on our tongues.
The alchemy of words continues!
Oohhh
It worked then 😄
And you're picking up on the weight of certain words, which is frankly awesome! I've been exploring this more in the last few weeks, and whilst it may seem odd to read, some words do sit heavier on the tongue, make our mouths move in different ways, and this can directly impact the sense of what we're reading
So pleased you caught all the breathlines and pauses too Moll 💛
Thank you for such a great "embodied" reflection!
It did indeed work!
Yes! That ghost on the tongue, when you are silently reading, but your mind feels the words in your mouth, is so powerful, and you do feel it with some of the greatest writing. It's one of the skills I want to have one day! One day...
And maybe that day is already here, dearest Moll!
You're lovely, but nope! I have a long road to travel! But I do have a good teacher...Xx
ohhh - please introduce me! I'm always in need of a good sifu!
Ok, hang on!
(Fetches mirror)
A beautifully crafted compact cosmic fable, gentle, musical, and quietly devastating. The shift from playful rhythm (“the sun said hop… skip…”) to the heavy stillness at the end lands beautifully, like a myth collapsing into grief. Bravo Mark!
Thank you Dipti!
I had a feeling you might like this one, and so pleased it landed well! 🫶🫶🫶
Thank you Mark.
I really loved the rhyme in this poem; it flows so naturally.
When the sun stops and the moon stays dark, it’s not just the universe that goes silent, but something inside us too. The stillness speaks louder than any sound.
Thank you, Dawnithic for your great words and reflection.
The cosmic part of this, that it's not just about the universe — it's what happens inside as well that matters — is something I had a feeling would resonate with you.
Stillness can indeed speak louder than any sound we hear or feel.
Absolutely
This was almost meditative for me. Like when we concentrate on our breath and retain the inhalation briefly before exhaling.
The sun stopped still. The moon stayed dark -
this is where one pauses before the next line - one, being me.
Thank you so much for your reflection Margaret.
You've picked up on exactly what I was trying here, where punctuation and some words can act in a somatic way, and affect how we breathe into and even between the lines.
That inhale and exhale is 💛
I'll be covering this more in this week's episode on somatics, out later today - Before Words Arrive — and then to also go further into the practice of it, so we all learn together.
Thank you!
Mark this is beautiful. it reads like a quiet unfolding of the world itself, both gentle and profound. I love how the sun and moon aren’t just celestial bodies here, but voices and witnesses, moving with a rhythm that mirrors the heart. The way you let silence linger — “in the quiet, inside us” — is haunting and tender. It’s the kind of poem that stays with you long after the last line, reminding us that even in stillness, the world and our emotions are deeply alive.
Humbled Urvasi! 😊
That's such a beautiful reflection and I love that you've caught the embodiment of the sun and moon, not just as narrators or voices, but also as our witness.
Thank you so much for bringing your words and spirit to my writing, and bringing your grace with them.💛
Oh my … thank you. such beautiful words.
I really love how this one moves, Mark — the way it starts playful, almost like a rhyme, and then quietly slips into something cosmic and solemn.
“The sun said hop” felt almost innocent at first, until it wasn’t.
That ending — the silence, the stillness — it stayed with me long after reading.
It made me stop for a bit — just to listen to the quiet it left behind…
Thank you Asuka!
You picked up my little nursery rhyme feel to it and then also the transition to something more cosmic! ooooohhh! 😊😊😊
It's interesting how small cues, a word, a rhythm, can lead us into thinking of something playful and childlike without mentioning much at all, e.g. hop, and a few short lines.
I love that you mentioned rhythm — it’s what sneaks up first~ “Hop” feels tiny and bright at the start, then somehow opens into this huge, starry quiet.
It’s funny how one small word can carry both play and wonder — like a child naming the sky before learning what stars really are~ adorable in fact~