between blue rocks?

My title is taken from T. S. Eliot’s poem “Ash Wednesday,” which I love.

In the last section of that poem, Eliot writes:
This is the time of time of tension between dying and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross
Between blue rocks
               .  .  .
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will … 

Between-ness, blue-ness, and rocks are all things for which I have affinities; the three in conjunction, as Eliot placed them, suited me exactly.  So I took them as my title.

I am certain that more than three dreams have already crossed here in my postings: dreams dying and dreams being born, and myself dying and born with them.  I write in solitude, mostly, and I hope I write what is true.  In some sense, writing  is a way of caring and not caring all at once.   It is certainly a way of being still.  

And I know this: that nowhere but in His will is there any peace.