Language was not powerful enough to describe the infant phenomenon.
Language was not powerful enough to describe the infant phenomenon.
In this way they went on, and on, and on--in the language of the story-books--until at last the village lights appeared before them, and the church spire cast a long reflection on the graveyard grass as if it were a dial (alas, the truest in the world) marking, whatever light shone out of Heaven, the flight of days and weeks and years, by some new shadow on that solemn ground.
His gaze wandered from the windows to the stars, as if he would have read in them something that was hidden from him. Many of us would, if we could but none of us so much as know our letters in the stars yet - or seem likely to do it, in this state of existence - and few languages can be read until their alphabets are mastered.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories