Mindblown: a blog about philosophy.

Today, I rode by Leaves dropping near trees In the afternoon When wind whirled them to the sky, Thickly, silently, Fell, like snowflakes wiping out noon; And wandered thence For thinking of multitude All withering lay, Slain by no wind of age But their beauty strewed Snowflakes on the Flemish clay.

Futility in 2nd person Move you into the sun – gently my touch woke you once, At home, whispering of fields half-sown. Always it woke you , even in France, Until this morning and this snow. If anything might rouse you The kind old sun will know. Think how it wakes the seeds – Woke…

Comment: You demonstrate a good understanding of many of the ideas behind your point that speaking and text communication are creative language forms. You have a tone in your essay that explores the ideas thoughtfully and cleverly explains the more complicated aspects by putting them into practical contexts. To develop your work further: There is…

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