'Religion is full of colour'

Philosophers have destroyed what they have found.

--Feyerabend.

There is silence. Why alter it by a jot or tittle? Not the blank, white space, which is just another abstraction of the mind, but the place that is full of wild ways, the tracks that appear even after many seasons have passed and been forgotten. 

The immense power of the sun-solar generosity (Larkin); it is there early in the morning, hours before everything else, cloud and leaf, faint morning breeze and shadow. It has been there with the distant stars through the night! And for thousands and thousands of years after we are no more and the grass grows long again. 

Our words will cease to be lyrical, there will be no time for flourishes or abundance; and the spare, linear and elegant sentences we spoke will come to seem like so many treasures from a foreign land or an unused Norman canal network that reminds us of a time of simpler energies.  

Could it be that we were mistaken all along..the Tree of Life..life, life itself, living..

Have we not fooled ourselves? Have we not always? There has been a surplus from time out of mind.

What would we trade for more time? Only the sage says with equanimity: my time has come, my time is done, though we wonder if that's the full human response, as if to say: there is more perfection in imperfection.

Did I really know anything? I have forgotten and cannot say if I am the worse for it.