Poetry, Stream of Consciousness
Comments 2

Hymn of Pan

 

I sang of the dancing stars,
I sang of the daedal* earth,
And of heaven, and the giant wars,
And love, and death, and birth.
–Percy Bysshe Shelley, Hymn Of Pan

*Daedal = intricate, artistic, richly adorned, ingenious in form or function…
What a marvelous word.

As promised, a picture with the sun visible.

Bring it to full size, and just wander among the stalks for a while.
Find a particularly alluring edge and linger there, feeling the sun as it traces both your edges, and the edges of that where you now, for the moment, reside.
Feel the warmth seep into your bones, as it always does during the summer months.
Luxuriate in the softness of the cottony flower at the top.
Embrace the cooling breezes as they waft across you, for the sun is warm at this time of the year. Relax… sit a spell…

Take one (1) of the above paragraph as often as needed, over the next five months.

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