Petals fell upon us from the apple trees.You thought it might have been a fall of snow, taking shape within the early light of summer. Birds sang somewhere in the snow, recalling songs of other seasons gone into the light. The apples that began to grow upon the branch were put away, the snow came down upon us. Perhaps the sky is but a tree invisible that sheds its snow, and we are grass, sensing the fall upon us, nothing more. If we
have names, they shall be lost within the changing of the light. We will be known by how its passing pauses on our skin - the wind, the snow, the light. Taking your hand in mine begins within the mind. It is a passage of the light that rests wherever our bodies hold themselves within the seasons underneath the sky. Other birds rise up and sing, drawing the air into their song. We reflect upon the sun, the memories of birds descending on our breath. (E.D. Blodgett.Apostrophes III alone upon the earth,p.8)
Thoughts, wrote Nietzsche, are shadows of our feelings: always darker, emptier, and simpler than these. And the written word, it strikes me, is but a shadow of our thoughts. 