“A poem must be a holiday of Mind. It can be nothing else.
One discards its poverty, its weaknesses, its everydayness.
One organizes all the possibilities of language.
The holiday over, nothing must remain. Ashes, trampled garlands.”
– Paul Valéry –
When I meet a shower, a lightning, a rainbow… and a vibrating poem… I know what it feels like… it doesn’t belong to the earth… feet off the ground… leave them there, just for a while, just for a little longer.