While walking along Hastings beachfront with my nephew, I asked him “How do you know if the past and future exist if you can’t see them? Where are they?” and he replied “Don’t be such an idiot, Grace!! just because you can’t see something doesn’t mean it isn’t there!”
D’ye see, after allowing a little space for the light to spread, nothing resting?
Day into night, and through night into day the remote, Unseen
Eventually to be visited:
After being chased, through night, through darkness, successful in the end, the wind and sea allies;
Touching the heart
Made this poem using an exercise in a journal/ notebook called “THE STEAL LIKE AN ARTIST JOURNAL” by Austin Kleon. I love it! It seems to inspire and release creativity 🙂