September 2011
31 posts
“There is no money in poetry, but then there is no poetry in money, either.”
—ROBERT GRAVES (1895-1985)
"The Ovenbird" :: Robert Frost
There is a singer everyone has heard,
Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird,
Who makes the solid tree trunks sound again.
He says that leaves are old and that for flowers
Mid-summer is to spring as one to ten.
He says the early petal-fall is past,
When pear and cherry bloom went down in showers
On sunny days a moment overcast;
And comes that other fall we name the fall.
He says the highway dust is over all.
The bird would cease and be as other birds
But that he knows in singing not to sing.
The question that he frames in all but words
Is what to make of a diminished thing.
“To be uncertain is to be uncomfortable, but to be certain is to be ridiculous.”
—Chinese Proverb
“Let your heart guide you. It whispers, so listen carefully.”
—Littlefoot’s mother, The Land Before Time
