The very thing(s) you claim to possess might very well be possessing you instead.
“How do I feel? Well, I don’t know how to say it. I feel, I feel, I feel like spring after winter, and sun on the leaves; and like trumpets and harps and all the songs I have ever heard!”
I know it’s not Holy Week, but this is just too beautiful to wait for half a year or so to post it.
Today 46 years ago, J.R.R. Tolkien passed on.
Here’s something a bit more contemplative.