Funny how words can sculpt our feelings which in turn sculpt more words. It often becomes a vicious cycle. Meaning in the heart gets tormented by the definitions held in the head.
Aesop’s fables came off the shelf today and I read a few of them and thought about how these arose out of the mists of time. They are so thick with animism and natural metaphor you can’t help but connect on a myriad of levels, each different as it arrives to you in your place and time.