h a l f b a k e r y"Not baked goods, Professor; baked bads!" -- The Tick
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I wish there was an undo for whatever keystroke combination I just did. (I waxed poetic & would have been proud of it!)
on a piece of paper thin, I write what you would call my sins, I wouldn't call them that, but still they bother me.
I take my poor human hand, set it on the stand, in the fire
to set my feelings free.
In some seconds tears, In others jubilance, my poor spelling swirls amoung the smoke, you see.
things I've held back for years, LET YOU'RE FEELINGS GO.
come assemble at this fire.
All you need are words, No need pretend ... Khhr Hrr!
Let go what you know, that which makes you sad.
Let go what you know, that which makes you mad.
[Zimmy], Let go that you know, you deleted somehow what you really wanted said.
Like a wishing well, where you throw a penny in to make a wish, This is a perpetual fire in which you can burn a piece of paper
stating your regrets.
found it- scroll down to 'Food for Thought'
http://www.schoolof...ons.com/lammas.html
[xandram, Aug 04 2006]
[link]
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I would think something like this exists somewhere, but I like it anyway. + |
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{insert list of spelling and punctuation error corrections here, starting with 'altar'}
Incidentally, how is the title pronounced? |
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But I'm sure the idea of writing your sins down and burning them is Baked in one or other of the established religions. Oh, yeah - Catholicism. |
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This week I took a tour of a local children's hospital. One of the things our guide showed us was the sanctuary and meditation room. |
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In the room is a stand with a Native American "burden basket". This was presented to the hospital by a local tribe with an explanation of the tradition that you could put down your "burdens" on paper - or other things - and put them into the basket, and they would then be carried away and burned, with the ashes scattered in a place of peace and solitude. This would then ease the burden of the sufferer. |
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Someone from the tribe comes each week to empty the basket, and perform the ceremony privately. The basket gets pretty full. |
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[lurch]- Call me contrary, but
I'd be heaps tempted to write
my burden down on a nice sheet
of asbestos... |
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