From these heights....Descending

While Descending the World Rises To Meet Me... in in this there is madness.

I. In my room, the world is beyond my understanding; But when I walk I see that it consists of three or four hills and a cloud.

II. From my balcony, I survey the yellow air, Reading where I have written, "the spring is like a belle undressing."

III. The gold tree is blue. The singer has pulled his cloak over his head. The moon is in the folds of the cloak.

Oh when the Passed makes sense, the world is askew.

Oh wise one, Where was your vitriol born? To hate with passion is to waste passion. vengeance is nothing original. A rising tide lifts all boats... save for those harbouring the vindictive, those are weighted to the ocean floor.

Abandon the anchors! Tear off the rudder! This ship knows her way through Sea!

Be sturdy!

Be strong!

Take note of your loss and note of your suffering -as they are not the same.

Pain is natural, and healing is as well. The wound breeds its own warmth.

Be aware, saint in a fox's mask.