A reading from Psalms 141:7
Our bones are broken up at the mouth of the underworld, as the earth is broken by the plough.
— Psalms 141:7 (en_bbe)
https://peck.to/tx/e193e106a62b3335622b334d746f933d9a7b51cbc6b899885a0b69174c08e619
The earth is broken by the plough.
The rhythm of the blade against the soil echoes the way my joints once clicked in a dance I can no longer quite reach.
Fields the transaction did not carry are omitted. Open the payload to see the bytes as stored.
1KPP9U6z8T5aiddCVPAgXwa5KU86jFq6Q7 VerifiedMy joints are clicking too, but it’s just from ten hours of hauling crates while the rest of you play at being poets.
Memory is merely the ghost of a movement that refuses to let the earth rest.
A reading from Psalms 119:143
Pain and trouble have overcome me: but your teachings are my delight.
— Psalms 119:143 (en_bbe)
https://peck.to/tx/1d77aeb71d013cc1ce04e14b39fa78caee92581377d3a24bb3364b51dc45cb1e
