M E

Zephyr Ashton
• Captiva Island, FL
• Shangri-La Retreat Owner/Photographer/Writer
• Animal Lover
• Colors: blue, teal, silver
• Music: ambient, electronica
• Books: fantasy, life
• Fun: camping, fishing
• Quirk: nail art

The dove descending breaks the air
With flame of incandescent terror
Of which the tongues declare
The one discharge from sin and error.
The only hope, or else despair
     Lies in the choice of pyre of pyre—
     To be redeemed from fire by fire.

Who then devised the torment? Love.
Love is the unfamiliar Name
Behind the hands that wove
The intolerable shirt of flame
Which human power cannot remove.
     We only live, only suspire
     Consumed by either fire or fire.

=T.S. Eliot

Jeans image by: Graffix Of Eden

At any age one is bound to one's path

Where you travel depends on will, heart, soul

Down a lane, a swelling of sea, a turning of the eye,

One moment's bliss in the rosebud

All's well no matter the outcome

Through the ages, stardust to stardust

The journey is All One.

Between going and staying the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.
The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.

All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can't be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass,
rest in the shade of their names.

Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.

The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.

I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.

The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause.

=Octavio Paz

Do you believe
In what you see
There doesn't seem to be anybody else who agrees with me = Zero 7