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In today's entry, I take a look at another poem by Seamus Heaney, 'The Blackbird of Glanmore,' and the extended metaphor of the 'house of life' presented therein. It's something I've been thinking about a lot during this strange period of quarantine, with a little time and stillness to reflect upon my life and re-evaluate... Continue Reading →
The two of us looked out at the blue sky, the bare chestnut tree glistening with dew, the seagulls and other birds glinting with silver as they swooped through the air, and we were so moved and entranced that we couldn't speak.Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl, 23 February 1944 As I write... Continue Reading →
Poem of the Day: Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour. July 13, 1798 By William Wordsworth. I've chosen this poem because to me it describes most perfectly the experience of meditation, of switching off the mind and making contact with the Divine. The... Continue Reading →
Experiments in Fiction 