You have your good days, you have your bad days. Today is a bad day. A crusher. My idealism has stung me again. It is hailing and pouring, there's no way to walk in the park. The water must flow WITHIN me. Water wears away rock, but sometimes the process just takes too long.

Not the loss alone,
But what comes after.
If it ended completely
At loss, the rest
Wouldn't matter.

But you go on.
And the world also.

And words, words
In a poem or song:
Aren't they a stream
On which your feelings float?

Aren't they also
The banks of that stream
And you yourself the flowing?

~ Gregory Orr ~




(Concerning the Book that is the Body of the Beloved)

This posting from www.Panhala.com