Thursday, 26 October 2017

A Winter's Eve [Celestial Biology]

In the eavestroughs of the world, and in the gentle tinkle of the leaves by night there is something of the rhythm of things, something fleshed out, as it were, by the waters of the mind as they coalesced with these of the reaches of space and time and of the twinkle of the stars at night and of its approach - and theirs - every Winter's eve and behind whom stood the great green boughs of the Spring like a Past its Future and a Future its rumours of things unsaid and of the insurmountable gulfs between this world and the next, rumours only hastened to the chapels of the holiest parts of the mind upon some little notice, like a pretty young girl or boy only too eager to discover the world in their head and upon their very lips, all the great feats and steeps they would have accomplished if by currents that give wings to the arms and make a gait of ample good fortune to the strident young prince, notice of the rhythm of things, of the gentle tinkle of the leaves by night and of the stars as they form so much more striking images in the sky, memories of truly celestial life and blood.

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