You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
If you've cheated the man in the glass.
I am not religious, at least in the sense of believing that I have the answers, but I am religious in the sense of knowing the questions. I know that there are things we can’t know, things even more important than making partner before the age of thirty. Doubtless most of us know this. Yet the tenor of life is not easily escaped. We try. People rush to Europe in search of the old, the quiet, and the pretty. Peddlers of real estate understand the urge, and hawk tranquil rural life while building the malls that will make it impossible. And so hurry comes to Arcadia. People then think of escape to the next small town. We spend a remarkable amount of time fleeing ourselves. Maybe instead we should build a place we like.
Which dream is this, that is unfolding
Whose blood is that boiling
Whose breath is that full of fire
Whose steps are faltering but holding
Words that are smouldering
Heart beat that is emboldening
Whose steps sound like an army marching
Who is this awakening
Whose thirst is to drink a river
To tell the truth yet deliver
Whose wounds strike a melody
Intensity that melts an eternity
Whose shade is as magnificent as sunshine
Whose blood thick, soup like
Who is this with bones in his lips
With words fixed and crisp
Who is this moving on even in his sleep
Let me look within
Is this impudent one me?
The turmoil and rousing is in me perhaps
Self belief is what I am discovering
It’s not the gear that matters. It’s you and your ideas that matter. Tone is in your fingers
"Years of pampering have left our newborns helpless, feeble, and ill-equipped for the arduous road ahead."
"It's time our children got the wake-up call that's been coming to them," Weldon continued. "It's time they cried their precious little eyes out."