Not feeling very inspired to blog lately, I've been writing a lot for work and for school. However, this poem spoke to me today:
"On Swimming" by Adam Zagajewski
The rivers of this country are sweet
as a troubadour's song.
the heavy sun wanders westward
on yellow circus wagons.
Little village churches
hold a fabrid of silenc so fin
and old that even a breath
could tear it.
I love to swim in the sea, which keeps
talking to itself
in the monotone of a vagabond
who no longer recalls
exactly how long he's been on the road.
Swimming is like prayer:
palms join and part,
join and part,
almost without end.
