4.12.13 / 8.22.13 (2) Humility, that wide-eyed child once stood next to the fountain on Cantos Plaza A yellow tipped man hung his bow there -- drew it across the symphony he played in his heart -- if only he’d known All around him sun’s rays shone through dusty streets, finding every shadow and giving chase The plaza dripped with honey and bread fell from the sky, but the bow drew back and forth. The conductor tapped his stand in vain p
