archaeology

One day, digging up the forest floor, They will stumble upon something white. Something hard to identify, even to tell apart From the peat moss and mycelium, something Brittle and crumbling, even delicate To the exploring fingers. It will stain whatever it touches, So they will not forget The strange encounter. Today, though, it is […]

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quis custodiet

fishing emotions like little kittens out of a box by the scruff of their neck, sorting. blind, slightly wet, wrinkled from just being born, sniffing the uncommon air with you watching. their mother is anxious, disturbed by your actions, the attention each one of them gets, what fate. some will be drowned. some will lose […]

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Sapped

There are words, those heard when the trees stand bare and open to elements, Words for the dark and daring and the roots. Heard from the heard of pedestrians as they stumble in streets, muttered, bitten off by the fall. The trees keep their bark closer as the light fails all over the planet: the […]

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The longing

My soul longs, indeed it faints for the courts of the Lord (Ps. 84.2) All great things start with longing: a longing for home, longing for love, longing for justice, longing for peace and simple, understandable life, longing for… First, to establish borders of this discourse: What is longing and what is its place in […]

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lietū raudāt ir vieglāk

man bija trīs kastaņi, Tev — sauja ievziedu rūgtu; un mums pa vidu vasara, sutīga, nenoplūkta. griezes iespraucās augustā, pērkoni gāzās un gāzās, lauki jau kļuva zeltaini, kurmji svinēja kāzas… vienu velēnu zemāk, zem puķu sarautām saknēm, tur viņi nesaskārās, dziedāja, saskandinājās. starp tārpiem un trūdvielām lēnām pacēlās saskaņa. Man bija sauja kastaņu, Tev — […]

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pēdas*

oktobŗa lietū ir kaut kas svēts. lapas sprēgā zem lāsēm, piepildās peļķes un slāpē zosu klaigas tur augstumos. siltā zeme ietinas miglās. vakari nodeg saulrietā, veļi nāk staigāt starp dzīviem, kāds elpo auksti pie vaiga. pamazītiņām mākoņi iztek kā domas asarās, velēnu zaļums ir mānīgs, salna velk sudraba stigu. tu neatnāksi. ne tagad. nosirmojušas pēdas […]

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Green ink

You know what they say about those who use green ink? Should I say – yes- she thought, all the words emerald. I’d have to research that, she nodded, words verdant and flourishing, sprouting a maze in her head. Green. The colour of death — Of the plants foraging for corpses with their toesies. The […]

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