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Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is.

If you don’t want to see my posts, please don’t look at them. Unfollow me. But I need this blog again. Its too special to lose.

You only see what you choose to.

Hi everyone. I think it’s time to move on from this Tumblr, but I’m going to keep it open for my open personal use. I will not be updating here anymore, however. When I create a new one, if I do, I’ll be adding probably most of you. Much love, and thanks for all the continuous support through out the years.

Ciara

I need you.

"

Here’s my case. Of old I used to love him.
This same unseen friend, before I knew:
Dream there was none like him, none above him,—
Wake to hope and trust my dream was true.

Loved I not his letters deg. full of beauty?
Not his actions famous far and wide?
Absent, he would know I vowed him duty,
Present, he would find me at his side.

Pleasant fancy! for I had but letters,
Only knew of actions by hearsay:
He himself was busied with my betters;
What of that? My turn must come some day.

“Some day” proving—no day! Here’s the puzzle.
Passed and passed my turn is. Why complain?
He’s so busied! If I could but muzzle
People’s foolish mouths that give me pain!

“Letters?” (hear them!) “You a judge of writing?
Ask the experts!—How they shake the head
O’er these characters, your friend’s inditing—
Call them forgery from A to Z!

“Actions? Where’s your certain proof” (they bother)
“He, of all you find so great and good,
He, he only, claims this, that, the other
Action—claimed by men, a multitude?”

I can simply wish I might refute you,
Wish my friend would,—by a word, a wink,—
Bid me stop that foolish mouth,—you brute you!
He keeps absent,—why, I cannot think.

Never mind! Tho’ foolishness may flout me.
One thing’s sure enough; ‘tis neither frost,
No, nor fire, shall freeze or burn from out me
Thanks for truth—tho’ falsehood, gained—tho’ lost.

All my days, I’ll go the softlier, sadlier,
For that dream’s sake! How forget the thrill
Thro’ and thro’ me as I thought, “The gladlier
Lives my friend because I love him still!”

Ah, but there’s a menace some one utters!
“What and if your friend at home play tricks?
Peep at hide-and-seek behind the shutters?
Mean your eyes should pierce thro’ solid bricks?

‘What and if he, frowning, wake you, dreamy?
Lay on you the blame that bricks—conceal?
Say ‘_At least I saw who did not see me,
Does see now, and presently shall feel_’?”

“Why, that makes your friend a monster!” say you;
“Had his house no window? At first nod,
Would you not have hailed him?” Hush, I pray you!
What if this friend happen to be—God?

"
  Robert Browning, “Fears and Scruples,” c. 1870 

(Source: nickkahler, via euphues)


atavus:

M83 - Wait

Set your dreams where nobody hides
Give your tears to the tide
No time
No time
There is no end, there is no goodbye

Disappear with night