“Find what you love and let it kill you.” – Charles Bukowski
A Dream
William Blake
Once a dream did weave a shade
O’er my angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
Where on grass methought I lay.
Troubled, wildered, and forlorn,
Dark, benighted, travel-worn,
Over many a tangle spray,
All heart-broke, I heard her say:
‘Oh my children! do they cry,
Do they hear their father sigh?
Now they look abroad to see,
Now return and weep for me.’
Pitying, I dropped a tear:
But I saw a glow-worm near,
Who replied, ‘What wailing wight
Calls the watchman of the night?
‘I am set to light the ground,
While the beetle goes his round:
Follow now the beetle’s hum;
Little wanderer, hie thee home!’
Autumn
Amy Lowell
They brought me a quilled, yellow dahlia,
Opulent, flaunting.
Round gold
Flung out of a pale green stalk.
Round, ripe gold
Of maturity,
Meticulously frilled and flaming,
A fire-ball of proclamation:
Fecundity decked in staring yellow
For all the world to see.
They brought a quilled, yellow dahlia,
To me who am barren
Shall I send it to you,
You who have taken with you
All I once possessed?
The birds, they sang
At the break of day
Start again, I heard them say
Don’t dwell on what has passed away
Or what is yet to be.
Yeah, the wars
They will be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
Bought and sold and bought again
The dove is never free.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
Yeah we all shine on, like the moon, and the stars, and the sun. — John Lennon
Weekly Photo Challenges: Shine
In 5-billion years the Sun will expand & engulf our orbit
as the charred ember that was once Earth vaporizes.
Have a nice day.
Neil deGrasse Tyson
No spring nor summer’s beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one Autumnal face….
~John Donne, “Elegy IX: The Autumnal”
“The moment you have in your heart this extraordinary thing called love and feel the depth, the delight, the ecstasy of it, you will discover that for you the world is transformed.” — J. Krishnamurti
“Supposing I was to tell you that it’s just Beauty that’s
calling me, the beauty of the far off and unknown, the
mystery and spell of the East which lures me in the books
I’ve read, the need of the freedom of great wide spaces,
the joy of wandering on and on — in quest of the secret
which is hidden over there, beyond the horizon?”
— Eugene O’Neill
O Gather Me The Rose
by William Ernest Henley
O gather me the rose, the rose,
While yet in flower we find it,
For summer smiles, but summer goes,
And winter waits behind it.
For with the dream foregone, foregone,
The deed foreborn forever,
The worm Regret will canker on,
And time will turn him never.
So were it well to love, my love,
And cheat of any laughter
The fate beneath us, and above,
The dark before and after.
The myrtle and the rose, the rose,
The sunshine and the swallow,
The dream that comes, the wish that goes
The memories that follow!
Maverick Mist 