A poem simply sounds the bell, of that which words could never tell.


How gently we are born 
Upon the wind of change,
That mighty storm
Reaching us as barely a whisper,
How softly we are carried
From moment to moment
With scarcely a hair to rearrange.


Lucy Lopez said...

Tim! How art thou??? :)

I haven't been tending to my blogs for some time now, but am now feeling the stirrings of fresh interest..enthusiasm..

and you? How dost thou travel???

I don't know why I've suddenly taken on this period speak but I'm so glad to see that unlike me, you've still been writing... :)

Ellumbra said...

Ah! The lovely Lucy - all bodes well, thank you - yes - still the occasional output of words from here - but currently busy with composing a score for James & The Giant Peach, being performed very soon.

I shall look forward to reading some of your fresh material - welcome back to cyber-world. XXX