feather on table
There is something alive in a feather. The power of it is perhaps in its dream of sky, currents of air, and the silence of its creation. It knows the insides of clouds. It carries our needs and desires, the stories of our brokenness. It rises and falls down elemental space, one part of our elaborate world of life where fish swim against gravity, where eels turn silver as moon to breed.
--Linda Hogan
feather on table
There is something alive in a feather. The power of it is perhaps in its dream of sky, currents of air, and the silence of its creation. It knows the insides of clouds. It carries our needs and desires, the stories of our brokenness. It rises and falls down elemental space, one part of our elaborate world of life where fish swim against gravity, where eels turn silver as moon to breed.
--Linda Hogan