You can hear the bones humming

[sovay]

How did we know we were human? We made music and devoured our own. The juniper tree's roots run deep. I am waiting for the flute that, blown, cries out in the voice of an ancient child.

There is salt on Enceladus.

Comments

[sovay]

In the shadow of the broken cook-pots, you cannot hope.

What does hope have to do with anything? The universe is as it is; imagining that anything we do here can negate or invalidate it is as solipsistic as assuming it was created for our pleasure in the first place.

[timesygn.livejournal.com]

Waiting is a kind of hope.

[sovay]

Waiting is a kind of hope.

Ah. I thought you were speaking of Enceladus.

[timesygn.livejournal.com]

No, I was merely responding poetically to the beauty of your post. Apologies if I caused any offense. The thought I might have horrified me because, although we have not met, just knowing that you are out there, passionately committed to your words, is a solace to me.

[sovay]

Apologies if I caused any offense.

No; don't worry.