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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=553619" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>From Theory To Pulse</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Church of St Etienne du Mont, Paris <br>Because that force through green fuse drives all flowers<br>(which we would call the greater force, or God, or minor gods)<br>and gathers in a place like this — things gather, here and there —<br>then it’s a good place to come to sit a while, though<br>the first postulate of relativity, and I believe it, says to me <br>there’s no such thing as place. But here I am. It’s nice to sit a while.<br>Protect me, then, in the gathering up, in the going away.<br>The gargoyles do the warding off, the message gets projected<br>through the spires. That’s the theory. Sounds beautiful<br>to me. Okay. So you know nothing about anything<br>except what you recognise as instance, as kindred appearance.<br>Suffering, then. And then compassion. There are older agonies<br>than churches. You go home exhausted in the middle of the day.<br>Sunlight floods the apartment. The turtle dozes by the window,<br>more solemn than a thousand cats. You lie down,<br>place her on your chest. For two hours she stares at you<br>and feels your heart move her shell. Older agonies.<br>You are as little as you could be. Protect me — why?<br>No need. The turtle, mute, knows nothing too. That force<br>that through your black heart pumps conjoins the turtle here.<br>Of her own will she is still and yet at eighty-four beats per minute <br>you watch her body make that tiny jolt ten thousand and eighty times.<br>We’ll all be dead. And very soon. And yet unblackening is relief.<br>The diamond glint in the ancient eye. Small suffering joins<br>with the greater that of the ages of blood. Agonies of evolution<br>and beyond that, as always, geology. The lilac knows nothing of this.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Luke+Davies">Luke Davies</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=553619" data-title="From Theory To Pulse de Luke Davies" data-description="Church of St Etienne du Mont, Paris 
Because that force through green fuse drives all flowers
(which we would call the greater force, or God, or minor gods)
and gathers in a place like this — things gather, here and there —
then it’s a good ..."></div>
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