Faintly scented breeze sways trees
entraptured eyes hidden below
shadowed forms pressed together
lovers bearing light within

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Eye of Newt

So last Saturday at dinner, I told a friend that "I never get sick; and I don't even need to knock on wood when I say that." Well, perhaps I should have done at least one knock - just to make sure. Yes, it's true: I'm sick. My eyes are on fire, my head going to burst, my joints ache a bit, and my skin feels considerably more sensitive than usual. It is in times like these that I question whether the superstitions of ages past - and even of the present - merit the skepticism that we give them. So I'm sick. And I don't think that Airborne really works. I think it's all whooey, actually. I've drunk that stuff like six times since yesterday, and I still feel just as bad, if not worse, than I usually feel during a cold. I would bet that all the extra vitamins just pass straight through the body and are disposed of. Now, if Airborne does nothing, then is one superstitious if he takes it and swears to its efficacy? Are we still in the dark ages where witc...
Read more

Random thought

Are words just an approximation of our thoughts? If so, then what is the integral? Where is the Calculus to exact the sum under the curve of consciousness? Can a man really find out man? Or is he left to only comprehend himself completely, while the thoughts of others exist as the solution to an equation, derived and never known as a present thing? Perhaps the world of language is more exact than is supposed here. Perhaps words are only triggers to complex mental processes. After all, language is only the vibration of air particles, or the ink on a page; pixels on a screen as well. Each, in its microscopic state, is nothingness. But when viewed as a whole, it becomes a symphony that will guide the listener or the reader in his thoughts toward an ultimate conclusion.
Read more

Genesis

It has finally come to the point that I deem it literally and metaphorically time to begin this little venture into the blogging world. For many weeks my mind has laboured heavily over my decision of what to write about. It had to be impressive, I thought, so as to attract the masses of the web. But blogs are many, and time is short. Not every voice can be heard by ma ny. Yet I begin in the face of daunting odds. It is to the subject of beginnings that my th oughts are appropriately drawn. Now for the metaphor. I think of the soil of the earth, from which emerges plants of infinite variety. The dust of space is routinely drawn together to form stars, solar systems, galaxies... Our minds take the chaos of life, the entropy of non-intelligence, and find meaning. What is this miracle that we behold? The miracle of intelligence, of order! Gradually, we take the chaos of life, and we arrange it in such a way that the chaos becomes creation. The universe moves and labors to destroy itself, t...
Read more