the revolution of everyday life


what if we spoke
from the world instead?



it didn't seem to matter where he was, or where he went, his doubt,
as well as that of others, always followed him – even more faithfully
than his own shadow.



he could often be found
looking out the window,
gazing towards the origin.
until that inevitable day
when he will have turned
and gone to stand blind
on the threshold.



being a true friend,
grief was always
there for him.



rising early he took the opportunity to watch the world form.

the rest of the day would then be spent wondering why it never
actually amounted to anything substantial.



to his ever-increasing dismay, he came to suspect that it wasn't the truth
that was being sought, but rather only the experience of truth--and even
then only if it was pleasant.



it was easy to turn away from himself, or so it seemed, but no matter
how hard he tried it seemed impossible to turn away from others.



cupping his hand to his ear,
he closed his eyes
and held his breath,
listening for even
the faintest echo
of the light.



all too aware
of the fragility of the world,
he retreated into his shell
in order to reacquaint himself
with his own.

Just so you know...

all images and text © Michael Tweed