The years shall run like rabbits

As I walked out one evening,
   Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
   Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river
   I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
   "Love has no ending.
"I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
   Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
   And the salmon sing in the street,

"I'll love you till the ocean
   Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
   Like geese about the sky.

"The years shall run like rabbits,
   For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
   And the first love of the world."

But all the clocks in the city
   Began to whirr and chime:
"O let not Time deceive you,
   You cannot conquer Time.

"In the burrows of the Nightmare
   Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
   And coughs when you would kiss.

"In headaches and in worry
   Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
   To-morrow or to-day.

"Into many a green valley
   Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
   And the diver's brilliant bow.

"O plunge your hands in water,
   Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
   And wonder what you've missed.

"The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
   The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
   A lane to the land of the dead.

"Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
   And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
   And Jill goes down on her back.

"O look, look in the mirror?
   O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
   Although you cannot bless.

"O stand, stand at the window
   As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
   With your crooked heart."

It was late, late in the evening,
   The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
   And the deep river ran on. 


As I Walked Out One Evening by W.H. Auden

Serendipity

"If you want to improve, be content to be thought foolish and stupid." – Epictetus

The universe is stirring up something, but it's good. It feels right. There's magic brewing in the pot. I feel the electricity in the air. Feeling grateful. Being positive. Staying optimistic. There is hope.

The Moon Song

I'm lying on the moon
My dear, I'll be there soon
It's a quiet and starry place
Time's we're swallowed up
In space we're here a million miles away

There's things I wish I knew
There's no thing I'd keep from you
It's a dark and shiny place
But with you my dear
I'm safe and we're a million miles away

We're lying on the moon
It's a perfect afternoon
Your shadow follows me all day
Making sure that I'm
Okay and we're a million miles away

Motivation Monday

"Tell me how you're feeling!"

"Fantastic! Terrific! Great! Oh yeah! Strong! Deuce! Baby! Sucker! I feel wonderful! Right on! Right on! Right on! Deuce! Deuce! Deuce! Deuce! DEUCE! Oh wha wha! I feel great! I feel great! Oh wha wha! Let's kick some ass! Kick some ass! Who's number one? We are? Who's number two? Who cares?!"

I'm not sure when was the first time Chris Pratt shared his coupon salesman story, but he has told this story multiple times. Nevertheless, I enjoy kick-ass morning chant! Be motivated. Stay focused. Don't get tired. Enjoy the hustle. Don't give up. Never quit. Go go go!!! #MotivationMonday

#NationalPoetryDay

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Do not go gentle into that good night by Dylan Thomas