BEINGA
SILOOF
NOTALW
DABSYA
UPON
TRUF
HERR
ELFE
CTIO
AMN
YBEI
?SIT
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
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What The Thunder Said
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What?
- **MML**
- I need loud frogs, great blue herons in the lake, ice cream with perfect timing, an unexpected email from a long lost friend, getting to try the greener grass on the other side, a book, a day of silence, anonymous writing, cold water in a bottle, a dark pink tulip, 78 degrees, smells that remind me of someone, chickadees at the window, inside jokes, and occasional sadness.
C'mon, You Know You Want To
In Case You Missed It The First Time (aka ReRuns)
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Shameless Self Promotion - The Other Blog
Because There Is Always Time To Read One More Blog
From "What the Thunder Said"
******************************************
"Here is no water but only rock/Rock and no water and the sandy road/The road winding above among the mountains/Which are mountains of rock without water/If there were water we should stop and drink/Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think/Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand/If there were only water amongst the rock/Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit/Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit/There is not even silence in the mountains/But dry sterile thunder without rain/There is not even solitude in the mountains/But red sullen faces sneer and snarl/From doors of mudcracked houses/If there were water..." -T.S. Eliot - The Waste Land
"Here is no water but only rock/Rock and no water and the sandy road/The road winding above among the mountains/Which are mountains of rock without water/If there were water we should stop and drink/Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think/Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand/If there were only water amongst the rock/Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit/Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit/There is not even silence in the mountains/But dry sterile thunder without rain/There is not even solitude in the mountains/But red sullen faces sneer and snarl/From doors of mudcracked houses/If there were water..." -T.S. Eliot - The Waste Land
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