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Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow
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In the mountains,
there you feel free.
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What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
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And the dead trees give no shelter
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I will show you fear in a handful of dust
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Looking into the heart of light, the silence
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Unreal city, under the brown fog of a winter dawn
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HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
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Inexplicable splendor
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The road winding above among the mountains
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Quotes from “The Waste Land” (1922) by T.S. Elliot (1888-1965)