And see, no longer blinded by our eyes. – Rupert Brooke
Breathless, we flung us on a windy hill, Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass. – Rupert Brooke
And see, no longer blinded by our eyes. – Rupert Brooke
Breathless, we flung us on a windy hill, Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass. – Rupert Brooke
But somewhere, beyond Space and Time,
Is wetter water, slimier slime!
And there (they trust) there swimmeth One
Who swam ere rivers were begun,
Immense, of fishy form and mind,
Squamous, omnipotent, and kind. – Rupert Brooke
Vision may sometimes sleep in the sun, while it wakens to widest revelation in utter darkness. Thus I am rapt in a trance-like acceptance of opening cavernous depths, crypts of decyphered gloom, yielding hollows of velvet obscurity that go down, down to the roots of things. – Virginia Garland, “The Rain,” Out West: A Magazine of the Old Pacific and the Ne