The Universe is bewitching and uncannily idiosyncratic.
"Once, in finesse of fiddles found I ecstasy, In a flash of gold heels on the hard pavement."
As a cluster of mere paupers trapped against the canvas, we stumble and watch the travelling circus with trembling hearts, and trembling hands.
Is it pure folly, - I whisper to the dusty ground below me- , to lift up my eyes and try to tear down that old star-eaten blanket of the sky, so that I may fold it round me...and then..in comfort lie?
Is our unexplained endurance expected? Or simply unrewarded. How much does one endure, adopt and adapt in order to simply...remain much the same?
Wonder outwaiting pain...as in a Wintry tree.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment