Wednesday, April 2, 2014

The Eternal Question

Here, a truly haunting song by Blackmore's Night...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DHRlWdMtvok

~Lyrics by Ritchie Blackmore and Candice Night

Does this timeless query make you uneasy or fearful? Apprehensive? Depressed? The most overt symbol employed by this blog/web site is the "bridge." It certainly wasn't by accident. It has been my intention to suggest a means to span the "abyss." How the abyss manifests in your life is important only by it's identifying characteristic; hopelessness. Once one becomes disempowered or disillusioned, hopelessness thrives. Hopelessness is Hell's most efficient assassin.

I share this because renewal for the domain name has come up--and will be allowed to elapse. I speculated this would be the case last July. The remaining three months will be more than sufficient to say what hasn't been said, if indeed, things have been left unsaid. If the idea you are a dolphin in search of the ocean hasn't registered yet, allow Robert Frost to express it with more elegance:

We dance round the ring and suppose
But the secret sits in the middle and knows

2 comments:

  1. THE DANCE

    by
    Wm. Carlos Williams

    When the snow falls the flakes
    spin upon the long axis
    that concerns them most intimately
    two and two to make a dance

    the mind dances with itself,
    taking you by the hand,
    your lover follows
    there are always two,

    yourself and the other,
    the point of your shoe setting the pace,
    if you break away and run
    the dance is over

    Breathlessly you will take
    another partner
    better or worse who will keep
    at your side, at your stops

    whirls and glides until he too
    leaves off
    on his way down as if
    there were another direction

    gayer, more carefree
    spinning face to face but always down
    with each other secure
    only in each other's arms

    But only the dance is sure!
    make it your own.
    Who can tell
    what is to come of it?

    in the woods of your
    own nature whatever
    twig interposes, and bare twigs
    have an actuality of their own

    this flurry of the storm
    that holds us,
    plays with us and discards us
    dancing, dancing as may be credible.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Regarding the "dance," I wanted to post one of my fav poems in response *:)

    ReplyDelete