The Thunder-Spirit Night time--the orange Clouds withhold oncoming rain; Afar the thunder Lingers to oblivion: Restless are the ways That fulfill unspoken dreams Their lives amongst us, As time that summons passing As a startled bird To wake us in the moonlight Of a winter sleep. Douglas Thornton
October 23rd, 2013
Reading is never so great as when it is inherent in the other senses of the body. What I mean is, there is often a music echoing around us, for the most part cumbersome and annoying, but never far from mixing with our tasks, so that what had started in a bitter dissonance of thought, now draws us into an unexpected world of confirmation. In the hours of reading this music begins to draw away, leaving the words to settle upon the dying rhythm, and finding entrance into the story, gives a clear and distinct voice to the path of imagination, only then opening the inevitable charms of the work before us.
Douglas Thornton
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