Edge of Somewhere
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Recent ArticlesIs God Scarce?
Always coming and going
Institute 2010 Slideshow
A year ago
Agency
Journalist Citizens
More café brilliance
Gallery Experiment
Forced connexions
Implications of the image
Recent Comments
Dick Hayhurst (Meeting with Friends)Janelle (Forced connexions)
Emily (Implications of the image)
Neil (Implications of the image)
Jason (Unpacking India)
Links
Discussions
- Who owns water?
- Underground Farming
- Toy recall
- Green shaving
- Blast it all to Hell
- China climate report
- City States
- Cross Cultural Entry
- Design for 10,000 years
- Detroit auto show
- Direct Current
- Electric rugs
- Fever
- Floating Houses
- Hope not Fear
- If it's yellow...
- Integration
- Mass Transit
- Massive Change and the City
- Materials of worship
- Not just weeds
- Shared theatre
- Small arms trade
- Study Sustainable
- The Revolution
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Circles and Synthesis
Sometimes,
When many words seem to roll around the brink
And one wonders which will fall out and be lost—
Which will tip inside and kept as treasure,
Sometimes,
I’m afraid to push upon the words
They may crush themselves
Or burden the Spirit of another and my own.
Sometimes,
Words and hot tea,
Either given or taken in a rush may burn
To burn away some of taste forever.
Sometimes,
There is more to singing than our voices
And more to knowing than our words
And more to love than touch.
Sometimes,
I should pause to listen
While smaller voices whisper still.
Few know how to touch anymore.
Dream well—
Few know how
To Dream
Or fear
To Dream
Or listen
Or touch
Or Love.