So here I am
– T.S. Eliot, East Coker

while the roof’s fallen in,
– Matt Howard, Silence
now the night’s drawing in
and just look at the stars turning over
Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they
– John Keats, To Autumn
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too
I hear the wind shaking the branches as it moves through the trees; suddenly I feel a contact not just with this immediate scene, but with the whole cycle of the seasons, how the wind in winter sounds so muffled, because only the evergreens are responding, but this rich sound will recur, next year and in all subsequent years. I am carried beyond the immediate experience to a sense of the whole cyclical movement of the seasons which is the condition of life on our planet. I am in touch with a movement at a much greater depth, and I rejoice at this connection. I am not talking simply of my knowing the fact that this rustling of the wind in the trees is part of a larger process; or even of my bringing the fact to mind.
Cosmic Connections, by Charles Taylor loc 7219
