Danny James

Tag: mystery

483

And still there is so much of this world to see, to feel and to experience. To move on from and forget, to make room too for the unknowable and not be hindered by memory.

113: The striking architecture of this mornings atmosphere

Whosoever finds themselves before the striking architecture of this mornings atmosphere no doubt has begun the day enriched forever. A colossal fleet of silver billows troop across the sky in magnificent silence, its ocean not yet fell its full solution of blue, gives pass for a serene and blessed journey. The last star of yesternight joins the crescent moon in a tapered farewell, while the suns entrance is made, grand and steady. The nearer it climbs increases a shade of magenta glow over the brumous beasts that pass, who seem none to notice, their backs are a-burning. Of what one may imagine the gateway to Eternity may resemble, if the common mind could conjure such majesties that a heart cannot stand the overwhelm, surely this is nigh. Now the phenomena ebbs into a natural state of whispered allure, and for how long I stared I do not know, I have lost some time here. Yet moved as I was to tears and mystery and photographs, I stirred for none, but let the splendid while fade and startling vision come gently to passing without mean intervention, and so infinitely and truly immortalised the experience, within the din of human memory.

96

It required no less than three separate walks today to reestablish good physical vigour and a more charitable mood, than otherwise would have succeeded sedentarily. New and curious, and I dare say, nearer to ones innateness are the thoughts and resolutions that unsought, will gently approach if the avenues are unfamiliar and no station fixed to the pilgrimage. Every original detail beholds a sensory deliciousness, that one derives thus an improved line of questioning, than rather mysteries point, and though none the wiser, there is advantage.

80: Farewell the Winter

Can such things be, and apprehend like a Winter Sun?

From its highest seat entirety is touched. Woe into dew thaws, the intellect has no answer at last. An eye cannot bear to blink. No face is unfelt of its warmth, no heart left uncheered beneath, nor does any farewell quite endear, as when it still glistening recedes behind tomorrow. The coming Spring is quite forgot.