A little while, a little while,
The weary task is put away,
And I can sing and I can smile,
Alike, while I have holiday.
Why wilt thou go, my harassed heart,
What thought, what scene invites thee now?
What spot, or near or far,
Has rest for thee, my weary brow? Continue reading “A little while, a little while”
Today we busy ourselves with cute sleeping doggies (and one kitten) and the origin or a well known expression.
‘Let sleeping dogs lie’ derives from the long-standing observation that dogs are often unpredictable when they are suddenly disturbed. Geoffrey Chaucer was one of the first to put this notion into print, in Troilus and Criseyde, circa 1380, although the belief itself may well be much older:
“It is nought good a slepyng hound to wake.”
I watched this really nice documentary and I was surprised how clear-minded these elderly people are. A bit frail, their skin looking like parchment paper, their eyes sometimes clouded but their voice is strong.
I think the secret of a long-lived life is being surrounded by people, socialising, shopping, following your desires.
“I have beautiful memories, you know…”
So it got me thinking.
What type of things do people have on their bucket lists?
A good bucket list is balanced. There should be items on the list that are easy to accomplish as you grow from a child to an adult. Such as getting a full-time job and paying your own rent.
- Climbing mountains
- Travel (backpacking through Europe is high on many people’s lists)
- See the Dead Sea and the Holy Lands
- Go on a safari
- Go to Disneyland (Paris is the closest to me)
- Learn a new skill like skying or Karate
- Get Married and have children
- Don’t regret anything you’ve done.
- Become a millionaire
- Be independent
“If I failed at making a cake, I called it a pudding.”
And remember that living in warm relationships actually expands your life span
Have a look at https://www.developgoodhabits.com/bucket-list-ideas/ and let me know which ones are your top 10.
If you start thinking, “What happens when awareness witnesses the wholeness of existence?” – if you start thinking, you are moving inside the mind in a circle, in a vicious circle, you may find some answer, but that answer is not the truth.
I’ve done something this week I’ve always wanted to do but never actually had the nerve to try. I went to Amsterdam with my beau and we both tried magic mushrooms. My truffles were something called “Dolphin’s delight” and I managed to have a trip like no other. Colours and sounds and feeling one with everything.
All profits disappear: the gain
Of ease, the hoarded, secret sum;
And now grim digits of old pain
Return to litter up our home.
We hunt the cause of ruin, add,
Subtract, and put ourselves in pawn;
For all our scratching on the pad,
We cannot trace the error down.
What we are seeking is a fare
One way, a chance to be secure:
The lack that keeps us what we are,
The penny that usurps the poor.
The vanity of accumulation is a common theme in poetry. Grim digits of old pain are that the numbers in the books that ‘litter up’ the home like the home of a real pathological 21th century hoarder is littered up with stacks of newspaper or piles of assorted junk.
By couching the true meaning of the poems in ambiguous ways, Roethke succeeds in elevating the poetry to a level of literature more artistic and creatively demanding than journalism and by doing so ultimately exposes poetry’s power capacity to deliver connotation to the reader on a more meaningful level than the mere dissemination of facts.
To be in love
Is to touch with a lighter hand.
In yourself you stretch, you are well.
You look at things
Through his eyes.
A cardinal is red.
A sky is blue.
Suddenly you know he knows too.
He is not there but
You know you are tasting together
The winter, or a light spring weather.
His hand to take your hand is overmuch.
Too much to bear.
You cannot look in his eyes
Because your pulse must not say
What must not be said.
Shuts a door-
Is not there_
Your arms are water.
And you are free
With a ghastly freedom.
You are the beautiful half
Of a golden hurt.
You remember and covet his mouth
To touch, to whisper on.
Oh when to declare
Is certain Death!
Oh when to apprize
Is to mesmerize,
To see fall down, the Column of Gold,
Into the commonest ash.