Sandhi Pujo

They are praying now. For an hour, as the incense wreaths their bodies, the clearest things will be the drum, the cymbals, the rising image of the gods, and the true relation of mortality and its dearest aspirations will stand forth clearly: men as mists and gods as gleams.
For a few moments, the squabbles inside and out will be chastened, sidelong voices drowned out. The priest will turn his back on the crowd, the drummer will lose himself in effort. Sound, enforcing silence, will summon all. They are praying.
Hear me too, I plead for peace.

You must be logged in to post a comment.

The Circus Diaries

A Critical Exploration of The Circus World...

Chicago Book Review

Chicago Book Review reviews Chicago's books

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

The Extinction Protocol

Geologic and Earthchange News events

Turtle Talk

Indigenous Law and Policy Center Blog Michigan State University College of Law

The Thesis Whisperer

Just like the horse whisperer - but with more pages

kottke.org

No heavens or hells haunt my desires, but those other worlds that exist in perfect harmony with all that is...

Neuroself

Subjective Neuroscience

The WordPress.com Blog

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.

%d bloggers like this: