The nothingness of stars

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

icicles engraved
in the oak tree
sparkles of illusion

Posted by Maria at 11:15 p.m.

Maria: Morning sun is different today. So are the trees, the leaves. The land here is dying; the sea is eating it slowly away, in the wind. I see Dionysus sitting below a tree, hear the sound of a flute, the sound of my name. --------------------------------------------------------------- I grew up in Canada and now live in Central Italy, where I work as an educator. Being part of two completely different cultures, my efforts have always been to conciliate the two inside my mind. My only conclusion is to find a third country where to live, since I feel I don’t belong to either culture. In other words, through reading and writing I like to explore the meanings of emotional and cultural displacement.

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