This is the dusty, musty attic trunk where the oldest posts of Maraca are lovingly preserved for posterity. Feel free to rummage around. Every trunk hides treasures, you know.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Poem for fall
When the world has spun itself out and vanished When men are no more nor time, nor space Surely God will stir in the infinite deep remember autumn and begin again
1 comment:
this is awesome...
Surely God will stir.... WOW
I like that line.
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