![]() The moss was a thick, living pelt, transforming every rock surface into a mythical, sleeping beast. It was so bright in its verdure that the color nearly spoke, as though- smashing through the world of sight- it wanted to migrate into the world of sound. It was not merely green it was frantically green. The cave was not merely mossy it throbbed with moss. The cave was cool and silent- thoroughly carpeted- with the most luxuriant mantle of mosses Alma Whittaker had ever seen. The Beauty of the House is immeasurable its Kindness infinite. Paper lanterns were hanging from the wires, spheres of vivid orange that blew and trembled in the snow and the thin wind the sea-grey clouds raced across the sky and the orange lanterns shivered against them. A lattice of wire was strung across the courtyard. There was a hotel with a courtyard with metal tables and chairs for people to sit in more clement weather. They are depicted in the twenty-seventh southern hall: a statue of two children laughing, one of them holding a flute. One of the children had a wooden recorder in his hands. I wanted to seize hold of him and say to him: In another world you are a king, noble and good! I have seen it! But I hesitated a moment too long and he disappeared into the crowd. He is shown as a king with a little model of a walled city in one hand while the other hand he raises in blessing. He is depicted on the northern wall of the forty-eighth western hall. As he screwed up his eyes against the falling snow, I realised I knew him. He had broken veins on his cheeks and a bristly white beard. People were walking up and down on the path. Though it was not yet twilight the streetlights shed a faint light. The lights of the cars on the distant road sparkled through the trees: red, yellow, white. The pale snow sifted down through bare winter branches. I entered it and followed a path through an avenue of tall, ancient trees with wide, dusky, grassy spaces on either side of them. The low clouds made a grey ceiling for the city the snow muffled the noise of the cars until it became almost rhythmical a steady, shushing noise, like the sound of tides beating endlessly on marble walls. It was about half-past two on a day that had never really got light. This afternoon I walked through the city, making for a café where I was to meet Raphael. Jackson (irritated): “If you want me to call you Twilight, then don’t be surprised if I slip up a few times and call you Pinky Pie.”Ī similar conversation ensued when Twilight was brought in to greet my dad, except my dad said, “That’s not a name, son. Isaac/Twilight: “The name is Twilight, not Twilight Sparkle.” Jackson (scowling then motioning to Isaac/Twilight): “Jessica was always watching it growing up, and I’m not a fan-not like Twilight Sparkle over here.” Tina: “Jackson! I didn’t know you were a My Little Pony fan.” Jackson: “You mean like that My Little Pony character?” Jackson (still looking bemused): “Say what?” Jackson (looking bemused): “No it ain’t, it’s not even noon yet.” However, I did notice the initial exchange between my brother and Isaac/Twilight when they arrived with Tina’s momma. I was too tired and melancholy to truly feel the level of bafflement this request deserved. I am the sailor of eternity whose voyage is not gone. I've never left the weathered docks of your loving mind,įor I am in the moon, the wind and the whale's evening song, So don't look for me on the ocean's floor to find, My love will be the compass that will see you through, I found faith in those that I called my crew, In this life I broke the waves and rode the swell, My friends, have no fear, my work was done well, I will greet you at sunset and with the moon's evening smile, I am alive in your memories and dreams when you sleep, It danced on the abyss of the evening sky,įrom the bow to the mast they heard him say, Have you not looked to the heavens and seen the new star, Suddenly, "HUSH", said the wind from afar, Shall our soul be a feast of kelp and brine, In silent sorrow they drop their salted tears, Then suddenly he pulls us through the reef's cutting sea,īack to the place that he asked us to be,įriendly barges that were anchored so sweetly near, While finding company on this journey to the brighten our night, We raise our sails and search for majestic light, We drift through the hush of God's twilight pale, Neither our dreams or plans would keep heaven far apart, The voices call us back to the rippling water's flow,Įven though our boat sailed with love in our hearts, To a far off place were all stripling warriors have died, We are all lonely voyagers sailing on life's ebb tide, ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |