There was a day when, as a young man, I picked up and flicked through a copy of Leaves of Grass in my local library and then carried it home and, in the solitary silence of my bedroom late at night, read verses in which I met myself.
Ever since, I have been wandering to and fro, back and forth among those whispering leaves...
This is Whitman's 'Miracles' read by the self-styled Tom o' Bedlam...
1 comment:
silence...
and then,
slowly,
quietly,
not wanting to disturb the miracle,
Thank you.
Post a Comment