the bird of gardens sang unto the rose, new blown in the clear dawn: "bow down thy head! as fair as thou within this garden close, many have bloomed and died." she laughed and said "that i am born to fade grieves not my heart . . . "
it's about acceptance of all sorts isn't it pauline! accepting the physical decay that accrues to age while also accepting the responsibility to bring goodness into each moment to the degree that is possible. steven
what a splendid way to look at one's own life!
ReplyDeleteit's about acceptance of all sorts isn't it pauline! accepting the physical decay that accrues to age while also accepting the responsibility to bring goodness into each moment to the degree that is possible. steven
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