Fear of the Inexplicable
How should we be able to forget those ancient myths
about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses;
perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses
who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave.
Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest
being something helpless that needs our love.
Rainer Maria Rilke
(ah, Jacq. . .if only my hair were still as blonde; my limbs still as limber; my feet still as beautiful, and dirty! If only I still had that old waistcoat. Hey, remember your tiered patchwork skirt; Revelstone; Cloud; Church Street; Holloway; Charlie dog. . . . .)
posted by Adagio at 5:03 pm
1 Comments:
Well, I've finally found you! I spent about 2 hours last night reading through your blog archives. I was stunned at how much I liked everything you've put up there. I thought of following a dappled pathway through the forest, not sure where it was going, but exquisitely lovely in both its lights and darks, with many breath-taking surprises along the way. Your choice of poety and art is SO much to my liking. You reveal yourself so delicately and lightly, and then hide again. I'm very impressed and will definitely become a regular reader/fan. Beautiful writing!
Post a Comment
<< Home