(picture credit: google images)In some of the words of William Blake,
"Little lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee,
Gave thee life, and bade thee feed
By the stream and o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, wooly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?...."
Dost thou know who made thee,
Gave thee life, and bade thee feed
By the stream and o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, wooly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?...."
accompanied by the music of WB Caldwell, I ask you, who made thee? I know that my mom loves me just the same now with her battery as she did before she had one (even though she's a bit slower during our games of chase). It really doesn't seem to matter whether her heart is totally dependent upon a battery or upon chemical reactions. Seems to me in all my dog wisdom, that if the "who" didn't want her to feel in her heart, then the "who" would've given her a dead battery. (Did you know that you can start a fire with steel wool and a dead 8 volt battery? (My mom saw it on MacGyver once).) Anyway ... Makes you definitely wonder, huh? So we use the word "heart" to describe deep emotions. What's wrong with that? Should we use the word "soul"? Should we not use words? On Valentine's Day, people give each other plastic hearts with Skittles in them, or truffles, or M&Ms. Does it mean any less because of the plastic? Guess we'll find out in about 8 years when the battery is scheduled to run out.
running with a little less abandon today,
sds (Someone quick! Throw me a cookie!)
running with a little less abandon today,
sds (Someone quick! Throw me a cookie!)
1 comment:
I stumbled upon this painting in the Louvre at a pivotal time, in my life. It was next to the Mona Lisa (who was enshrined in 1" thick Plexiglas)...this painting was sitting alone on the wall, unencumbered by the security measures indulged in the Mona Lisa. And it was in front of this unknown jewel that I wept.....I wept for the beauty of the love that the image emanated. It is this love that, when manifested, I believe can believe can save us humans from the ugly destruction that we seem hell-bent on visiting upon this planet.
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