realize the totality of our existence, our life, our moment. if we were to stop down and consider the way in which we spent a single day of our gift of manifest materiality, then i think we might actually know regret; even if it would just be remorse over our inability to appreciate our finest moments, not to mention our lack of understanding the consequences of our natural disasters.

*


so far, from the Plath poems, i like "Elm" the best. this caught me:

Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it
Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.

*


there is much to be learned
from misery
so call me a sage, naught
to be pitied.


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email address: the.tao@verizon.net