"There is something pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In short, I deny nothing, but doubt everything." - Lord Byron
19 mars, 2012
Sacré
It's 2 AM in the morning. I have been listening to the whorl of Zephyr winds beyond the window screen, and an echo of a barred owl calling from a valley tree. Last week, the red-winged blackbirds returned to the pond. Earlier in evening, a lone frog called from the Winter dried cattails.
Captivating.
On Earthy, witchy nights and for a moment, just a breath of a moment, all feels unutterably...holy.
Inscription à :
Publier les commentaires (Atom)
Aucun commentaire:
Enregistrer un commentaire