AS kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies dráw fláme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.

– Gerard Manley Hopkins (excerpt)

If you come as softly
As wind within the trees
You may hear what I hear
See what sorrow sees

If you come as lightly
As the threading dew
I shall take you gladly
Nor ask more of you

You may sit beside me
Silent as a breath
And only those who stay dead
Shall remember death.

-Audre Lorde

(borrowed out of the Xena fan fiction Apocalypse series by Brigit M. Morgan – seems to work for Clexa as well)

jamesford:

Caitlyn Siehl, from Crybaby

Sanctuary

My land is bare of chattering folk;
The clouds are low along the ridges,
And sweet’s the air with curly smoke
From all my burning bridges.

– Dorothy Parker