The language of objects

"There is no tomorrow. All my tomorrows are yesterday."

"If you come back, just come back for the moment. It's all there is."

"They speak to me, the objects. They whisper, in a strange language, the language of objects. They give me a hope by whispering rumours of my redemption.  I only wish I could have collected them more slowly, individually, but I don't have time."

Call upon my soul

Within my house

I cannot live with you

It would be life

And life is over there

behind the door

I could not die with you

For one must wait to shut

The other's gaze down

I cannot live with you

It would be life

And life is over there

Behind the door

    ~Emily Dickenson

And so is offered in these optimistic, though viral times

a souvenir of another time, with this added prayer: 

In art and dream, may you proceed with abandon

in life, may you proceed with balance and stealth

~Patti Smith