<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rdf:RDF xmlns="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#"><channel rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/BlogRss.aspx/cordwainer"><title>Contemplate: - Blogit</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/cordwainer/</link><description>time to step back and take stock
sit and listen beside the river
walk to the mountain
maybe climb a bit and see
what is rising on the horizon.</description><sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod><sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency><sy:updateBase>2000-01-01T12:00+00:00</sy:updateBase><items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/cordwainer/660152" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/cordwainer/659788" /></rdf:Seq></items></channel><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/cordwainer/660152"><title>The Winnowing</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/cordwainer/660152</link><description>I am near when you pray, I am no form or shape, settle for no substitute, I am Spirit, syllables of storm, consonants of consuming fire. You will find me when you seek in desperation. I panned for you as gold, you became heavy with slavery, you sank in despair, scorned and despised, I washed away...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/cordwainer/659788"><title>after a time of silence the sound of slow breathing</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/cordwainer/659788</link><description>Contemplate: We were born at the end of the second world war, plasm vibrated, then began to sing with his song, life after bullets, mortors and bombs, we descended into caves, climbed towers, fumbling to make a new world. sixty plus years are now past in the frenzied darkness, the bending stormy...</description></item></rdf:RDF>