Sometimes the heart soars, and there is not a bird to rival it.Up, up, up it goesTo nothingnessAnd everything.And isn’t it light of feeling,With no
Category: There Are No Fixed Stars
There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Thirty-Four – Safety
The insect desiring safetyFinds a rock.And when I lift it,They scatterTo another. Is it that they have seen too much?Or not enough? By Emma Hynes
There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Thirty-Three – Time
In the Town of the KnightI walkWithout swordOr ceremonyOr aught for which to fightBut time –My timeAnd worthMy protection. By Emma Hynes This image and
There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Thirty-Two – Lunar Phase
There was a timeWhen, alone with the night sky,You felt the limitlessness of the infinite;The acute silence –The weightlessness –Afforded by space.You faced the moonAnd
There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Thirty-One – Pathways
There are cars moving on myriad motorways across Europe as I write;I can see them as if from a plane.I imagine the motion, for those
There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Thirty – Presence
The chimney stackWith clouds for smoke,And sun for fire,Has much to give;Imagine this sceneWithout it. By Emma Hynes This image and story are part of a
Emma Hynes 