A reed shaken by the wind.
This morning’s reading from eleventh chapter of Matthew contains a curious image.
It is curious… But I love it!
I suppose I might as well simply admit to you that I love it because it is curious!
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Monadnoc
By Ralph Waldo Emerson Thousand minstrels woke within me, “Our music’s in the hills;”— Gayest pictures rose to win me, Leopard-colored rills. Up!—If thou knew’st who calls To twilight parks of beech and pine, High over the river intervals, Above the ploughman’s highest line, Over the owner’s farthest walls! Up! where the airy citadel O’erlooks […]