| The makings of a mind are threads of thought That weave a web—coherent consciousness— To conjure and control the fire of soul. By day the bonds are stout, the spirit pale; Sure spells confine the flame within her cage Of reason, logic, memory, and fact ... Until soft darkness comes to cut the cords |
Tuesday, January 16, 2001 at 08:22:57 (EST) = Datetag20010116
(correlates: MothersDay, The Meaning of Life, TheAscent, ...)