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On listening to Shostakovich Symphony No.11 (The Year 1905).
The Winter Palace sleeps in a cold blue dawn of stillness. Oh that it could sleep forever like this, frozen in time. Hard is the soil. Still is the air Gentle the sky And when the morning breaks that it should stay undisturbed. Oh morning do not come and bring your horror. But morning broke…
Biogenesis?
It began with an act of supreme violence– a big bang expanding ever outward, cosmos born of matter and gas, matter and gas ten billion years ago. Whose idea was this? Who had the audacity for such invention? And the reason? Were we part of that plan ten billion years ago? Are we born only…
Illumination
But sometimes illumination comes to our rescue at the very moment when all seems lost; we have knocked at every door and they open on nothing until, at last, we stumble unconsciously against the only one through which we can enter the kingdom we have sought in vain a hundred years – and it opens….
These are the lives we chose
There is only one path. For good or bad these are the lives we choose.
On listening to Shostakovich Symphony No.11 (The Year 1905).
The Winter Palace sleeps in a cold blue dawn of stillness. Oh that it could sleep forever like this, frozen in time. Hard is the soil. Still is the air Gentle the sky And when the morning breaks that it should stay undisturbed. Oh morning do not come and bring your horror. But morning broke…
Biogenesis?
It began with an act of supreme violence– a big bang expanding ever outward, cosmos born of matter and gas, matter and gas ten billion years ago. Whose idea was this? Who had the audacity for such invention? And the reason? Were we part of that plan ten billion years ago? Are we born only…
Illumination
But sometimes illumination comes to our rescue at the very moment when all seems lost; we have knocked at every door and they open on nothing until, at last, we stumble unconsciously against the only one through which we can enter the kingdom we have sought in vain a hundred years – and it opens….
These are the lives we chose
There is only one path. For good or bad these are the lives we choose.
On listening to Shostakovich Symphony No.11 (The Year 1905).
The Winter Palace sleeps in a cold blue dawn of stillness. Oh that it could sleep forever like this, frozen in time. Hard is the soil. Still is the air Gentle the sky And when the morning breaks that it should stay undisturbed. Oh morning do not come and bring your horror. But morning broke…
Biogenesis?
It began with an act of supreme violence– a big bang expanding ever outward, cosmos born of matter and gas, matter and gas ten billion years ago. Whose idea was this? Who had the audacity for such invention? And the reason? Were we part of that plan ten billion years ago? Are we born only…
Illumination
But sometimes illumination comes to our rescue at the very moment when all seems lost; we have knocked at every door and they open on nothing until, at last, we stumble unconsciously against the only one through which we can enter the kingdom we have sought in vain a hundred years – and it opens….
These are the lives we chose
There is only one path. For good or bad these are the lives we choose.