Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are coral made,
Those are pearls that were his eyes,
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change,
into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell,
Hark! now I hear them, ding-dong bell.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Burning the Old Year
I feel like so much of this year was good solid stones, and I feel blessed. This is beautiful, though, and tonight I hope you dance in the burning of those ephemeral things, twist and float like pieces of char in a fire and wake up in the new year baptized and sanctified by the flame.