A Child within has Healing Ways

Catching that Butterfly (The Verve)

As though you were born
And so you thought
The future’s ours
To keep and hold
A child within
Has healing ways
It sees me through
My darkest days

I’m gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
I’m gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine

In my lucid dreams
In my lucid dreams

Something now????
Through life no fun
I want to feel
I want to run

I’m gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
I’m gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine

In my lucid dreams
In my lucid dreams

I’m gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
Keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
I’m gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
I’m gonna keep catching that butterfly

In my private dreams
In my private dreams
In my private dreams
My lucid dreams
My forgotten schemes
I see through you
You see through me
I see through you
You see through me
Be with me
Be with me
I see through you
You see through me
I see through you
You see through me

To be in your eyes
To be in your eyes

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I Discerned Beyond the Picture

For Once, Then Something (Robert Frost)

OTHERS taunt me with having knelt at well-curbs
Always wrong to the light, so never seeing
Deeper down in the well than where the water
Gives me back in a shining surface picture
Me myself in the summer heaven, godlike         5
Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.
Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,
I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,
Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
Something more of the depths—and then I lost it.         10
Water came to rebuke the too clear water.
One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple
Shook whatever it was lay there at bottom,
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.     

Eagerly Awaiting Spring

Spring Pools, by Robert Frost 

These pools that, though in forests, still reflect
The total sky almost without defect,
And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver,
Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone,
And yet not out by any brook or river,
But up by roots to bring dark foliage on.
The trees that have it in their pent-up buds
To darken nature and be summer woods—
Let them think twice before they use their powers
To blot out and drink up and sweep away
These flowery waters and these watery flowers
From snow that melted only yesterday.

Cormac McCarthy’s Words … overwhelm and awe.

From ‘Blood Meridian’ … 

They passed through a highland meadow carpeted with wildflowers, acres of golden groundsel and zinnia and deep purple gentian and wild vines of blue morninglory and a vast plain of varied small blooms reaching onward like a gingham print to the farthest serried rimlands blue with haze and the adamantine ranges rising out of nothing like the back of seabeasts in a devonian dawn. It was raining again and they rode slouched under slickers hacked from greasy halfcured hides and so cowled in these primitive skins before the gray and driving rain they looked like wardens of some dim sect sent forth to proselytize among the very beasts of the land. The country before them lay clouded and dark. They rode through the long twilight and the sun set and no moon rose and to the west the mountains shuddered again and again in clattering frames and burned to final darkness and the rain hissed in the blind night land. They went up through the foothills among pine trees and barren rock and they went up through juniper and spruce and the rare great aloes and the rising stalks of the yuccas with their pale blooms silent and unearthly among the evergreens.