^z 13th February 2023 at 8:54pm
| 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 That bind the bright beast tight. See how she turns, Unfolds and spreads her wings, and grows, and glows! She leaps to flight and joins the shining flock: Dark dreams that dance the sky and sing the songs Of creativity and life and love. |
Tuesday, January 16, 2001 at 08:22:57 (EST) = 2001-01-16
(correlates: MothersDay, The Meaning of Life, TheAscent, ...)