We are learning rapidly that there is no “away” to throw things – whether it is nuclear waste, mounds of plastic…or human beings we don’t know how to deal with. We have to learn, somehow, to deal with it all.
HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.
Everyone unravels just a bit in the dark.
Arachne’s Song, Dyonisis
then she drinks herself up and out of her kitchen chair and she dances out of time as slow as she can sway as long as she can say this […]