Metaxia Chrona / Visual Artist
Wellcome
"Fare Well" [ Come ]
When I lie where shades of darkness
Shall no more assail mine eyes,
Nor the rain make lamentation
When the wind sighs;
How will fare [Welcome] the world whose wonder
Was the very proof of me?
Memory, fades, must the remembered
Perishing be?
By Walter De La Mare (1873-1956)
"Design"
I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth--
Assorted characters of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right,
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth--
A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,
And dead wings carried like a paper kite.
What had that flower to do with being white,
The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
What brought the kindred spider to that height,
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
What but design of darkness to appall?--
If design govern in a thing so small.
By Robert Frost (1874-1963)