No tower of babel was required. he understood nothing anyone said. not even any of the nonsense he himself continually. Might this not have been a heaven too? His was the surest of paths,. Futility never needed to be sought. Mornings would always elude him. 8212;there was simply no awakening. He, however, remained unsure.

Monday, 13 October 2014. The floating bridge of dreams. Wednesday, 3 September 2014. Life is, as you know, woven out of a million threads, 999,999 of which end in one of those hooks. Friday, 1 August 2014.

Friday, 9 January 2015. Towards a poetics of seasons. Thursday, 22 May 2014. Their heart we do not know. Fish never tire of water; no one other than a fish knows their heart. Birds love the woods; no one other than a bird knows their heart. The same is true of those who savor reclusion. Kamo no Chomei, Tr. The title of this post is a line from Bashō, the Japanese poet.

Fragmentary Glimpses has been moved to my own website. All posts past and future can be found at Pensum. The curtains breathe with the light. There is no salvation even in considering oneself a small animal. Three words on a brick wall. At a distance, in reverence. Not to make the weak strong. But rather to find the strength of the weak.