Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow

In the mountains,
there you feel free.

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow

And the dead trees give no shelter

I will show you fear in a handful of dust

Looking into the heart of light, the silence

Unreal city, under the brown fog of a winter dawn

HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME

Inexplicable splendor

The road winding above among the mountains

Quotes from “The Waste Land” (1922) by T.S. Elliot (1888-1965)