Thanksgivings I thank whatever gods may be for the dawn of each new day On our lovely, fragile Earh, For the infinite variety of her people, plants, and other creatures, For music of every glory, From birdsong through whale chanteys To human harmonies and the sounds of silence. I am grateful for the sun, the
The dead are always alive in our minds. Listen to them carefully.
Harmonizing The older we get, the more we should try to live in tune with ourselves.
Cats are the world’s natural Zen masters: they practice do-nothing purrfectly.
There was a crooked man And he walked a crooked mile. He found a crooked sixpence Against a crooked stile. He bought a crooked cat Which caught a crooked mouse, And they all lived together In a little crooked house. – Traditional English rhyme
There was a crooked man And he walked a crooked mile. He found a crooked sixpence Against a crooked stile. He bought a crooked cat Which caught a crooked mouse. And they all lived together In a little crooked house. – Trad. English Nursery Rhyme
I’m turning eighty-one in September, and it’s become clear that I have to give up some of the things that have brought me great pleasure over the years. I actually started my renunciations three years ago, when I quit smoking. As any ex-smoker will admit, even after you’ve endured the pangs of withdrawal and find
We should try to live avidly, like hummingbirds, whose moments are years.
The Devourer Hwaet! Oft scops striking harps have lauded that land granted grace and goodness yclept Armorica where all folk fared well daring to do full fairly, unbefouled by basest desires for feofdom over mannen and wyffen both wrapt up in sour annoy and likewise beset by dire dreams of gains ill-got by lying guile.
I’m afraid that today I’ve not much to say. I’m feeling too sad, For the world has gone mad.