“Metempsychosis”

“Then the bees of self pour from the hive-door,
ravenous to enter the sweetness of flowering nettles and thistle.

Next comes the ringing a stone or violin or empty bucket
gives off
the immeasurable’s continuous singing,
before it goes back into story and feeling.” by Jane Hirshfield

Via Thrown Down Flowers

Yeah, that’s actually pretty much how it’s supposed to work.

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