This poem stands as an epigraph to the upcoming series. It’s currently under construction, but full of potential. There are a few threads I’m preparing to tie together.
In the meantime, I leave you with a title standing as epigraph to the next series.
The Life that tied too tight escapes
Will ever after run
With prudential look behind
And spectres of the Rein -
The Horse that scents the living Grass
And sees the Pastures smile
Will be retaken with a shot
If he is caught at all -
-- Emily Dickinson
(Thank you Horizon for your help finding this one).
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