Dedicated to snatches of song that can sum up your state of mind at that moment.
To those song-
writers and poets who string words together that anyone can own.
To my own pen, that can create pieces of song, though rare...
Sunday, January 11, 2009
The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart
Perhaps the spiral Minoan script is not language but a map. What we feel most has no name but amber, archers, cinnamon, horses, and birds.
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