I am never lost.
a passing apparition
or the sudden flash
of lightning -- already gone --
thus should one regard one's self.
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
Of those immortal dead who live again
In minds made better by their presence; live
In pulses stirred to generosity,
In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn
For miserable aims that end with self,
In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars,
And with their mild persistence urge men's search
To vaster issues.
That is very sweet sentiment but the plain and simple truth of the matter is this---most of us will be completely forgotten in two or three generations. How's that for a reality check?
A solitary tune by a fisherman, though, can be an invaluable treasure.
Dusk rain on the river, the moon peeking in and out of the clouds;
Elegant beyond words, he chants his songs night after night.
but poems flare in my heart.
HOW TO SEE THINGS AS THEY REALLY ARE
TEA AND MINDFULNESS