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How shall I hold my soul that it may not be touching yours? How shall I lift it then above you, to where other things are waiting? Oh gladly would I lodge it, all forgot, with some lost thing the dark is isolating on some remote and silent spot that, when in your depths vibrate, is not itself vibrating.



You and me - all that lights upon us though brings us together like a fiddle bow drawing one voice from two strings as it glides along. Across what instrument have we been spanned? And what violinist holds us in his hand?



O sweetest song





Rainer Maria Rilke

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vampchica4
01:46 Apr 23 2009

very......

im not sure there is a single word that could do this piece justice.

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Dragonrouge
16:43 May 01 2009

This is a fantastic poet!

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In the beginning

Nothing was. There was no dark. There was no light.

No sight, nor sound, nor touch, nor smell, nor taste.

No sleeping, nor waking, nor dreaming, no knowing.



Nothing……….



And then a surge of joy.

All senses alive and awake and filled with joy.

Darkness was and darkness was good. As with the light.

Light and darkness dancing together, born together, born of each other, neither preceding, neither following. Both fully being in joyful rhythm.

The morning stars sang together and the ancient harmonies were new and it was good.

It was very very good.



And then a dazzling star turned its back on the dark

And it swallowed the dark and in swallowing the dark

It became the dark and there was something wrong with the dark

And there was something wrong with the light

And it was not good



The glory of the harmony was broken by screeching, by hissing, by laughter which held no merriment but was hideous, horrendous cacophony



This was the creation of evil



Based on the text “A Swiftly Tilting Planet”

By Madeline L’Engle

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Dragonrouge
22:15 Apr 09 2009

Very interesting reading!

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When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes

I all alone beweep my outcast state

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries

And look upon myself and curse my fate

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope

Featured like him, like him with friends possess’d

Desiring this man’s art or that man’s scope

With what I most enjoy content at least

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising

Happily I think on thee, and then my state

Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate

For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings

That I scorn to change my fate with Kings



William Shakespeare

COMMENTS

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Luvadeea
20:58 May 30 2009

Shakespeare was always my favorite writer!

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