Filigree and Shadow

"The mad woman with the lines". Maria.

Despite the worlds inside of me, thwarting me away I've noticed in other eyes, time's closing in

You look for the lines that connect, that intersect. Sometimes for the lines that spiral out of control, that run off on a tangent. At others, at other times, for those that divide space. The search for a pattern to life is life. Or, rather, one's approach to that search is. Following lines into the unknown. To understand or make? The ink is not dry!

Today, early in the morning, I thought of the shadows cast by the buildings, the trees (all merging into one) and wondered if they'll be exactly the same size next year on this particular day. Or maybe there's another cycle, say in 12 years. Is time, then, just a cycle within a cycle of which I am a part? Are we alone in seeking out that still point, that vertical that opens out into another space?

I walked on, noticing the trails of silver pathways made by some mysterious stranger's footmarks through the dew. The silence that is the traces of other people's lives. The intricate, fragile pattern, this filigree and shadow..