(…)

I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you

Which shall be the darkness of God. As, in a theatre,

The lights are extinguished, for the scene to be changed

With a hollow rumbling of wings, with a movement of dark-

ness on darkness, (…)

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope

For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without

love

For love would be love of the wrong thing; (…)

Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thoughts;

So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the

dancing.

 

Excerpt from Four Quartets, T.S. Eliot

0105-4x5color.ai

In the lonely depth

In the sinking sun

With a silent movement

Moth wings against the night

A shadow falls like a dry leaf

And the earth sighs

A kiss of death on her lips

Shrouded mirrors beg for light

Lost images scratched on silver

With a silent movement

The end announces a new beginning.

 

©aother

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