take my hand and climb with me…
Don’t Carry It All ~ The Decemberists
Seed, light. Born, of almond. Or pomegranate. Black Friday, castrated. And hung, from a pine. Felled, to remember. Attis. Nailed, to the plane. Of matter. Spirit, contained. And crippled. This mortal, curse. Of ours.
We would rather be ruined than changed.
We would rather die in our dread
Than climb the cross of the present
And let our illusions die.
~ W.H. Auden
Beneath this bold and brilliant sun…