Whoever loves must try to act as if they had a great work; they must be much alone and go into themselves and collect themselves and hold fast . . . the more one is, the richer is Continue reading “Rilke’s Thoughts on Love”→
Not so long ago, the white, shrouded landscape sharpened and faded to gray-dations. True, a colonial brick structure seems a welcomed contrast, and even, intrusion. Beside it, slender, child-like branches, reach upward . . .
Jolly Old Saint Nicholas in his sleigh tonight
What elvish antics will occur, last trick before the light?
Many vision sugar plums dancing on their heads
Doing lots of somersaults, tumbling in their beds. Continue reading “a holiday twist . . .”→