The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed,
and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction,
while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming!
Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight:
a waste of desert sand; A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs,
while all about it Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
W.B. Yeats’s “The Second Coming.”
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOPaV7kdpizQZ9sYWfudSFdu2djFCzpvBqZai1fBt2USsnI2lcY-JtJdoLOCmzzkG_lYU0QDhbci_IcqPPeZDOQpOMVjTvvWkOzXyWbZrmS3Sy9scFP4uWpM0OCqSr3VobDfIbyvq-0P2y/s320/13522073_1182565595107292_1769054842807775238_n.jpg)
here's a response from director/producer/editor Laura Dunn as she speaks about her Wendell Berry documentary The Seer. It starts with Wendell talking about piecing things together..
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIxq8jISWwrXn-sapcaBxYB60-J9w8lU904_4GwNOFqUiKRKU-je9JvgoKNNVp7EAQgm67wYG4JlqG_dHcpbLPIH1ptuDX8BdOqi46IFOwhba9a1noDGrDtFR9M4D4o1AZxvK5zcTaRgRO/s320/thepeaceofwildthings.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment