Raw Form IV

Nothing here is still becoming. Each form has arrived at itself and holds there, self-possessed, asking to be met on its own terms.

Separation is the achievement. What was once tangled and indistinguishable has come apart into distinct presences, none diminished by the distance between them, none needing the others in order to be understood. That is a rarer condition than closeness, and considerably harder to reach.

The stillness carries no exhaustion. Turbulence has passed through and left behind poise rather than depletion, the settled quiet of things that no longer require anything to happen.

Deep terracotta warmth carries the whole of it, so a space receives that composure without the coolness which usually accompanies it, and the quiet reads as generous rather than withheld.