12.11.2012




Each minute bursts in the burning room,

The great globe reels in the solar fire,
Spinning the trivial and unique away.
(How all things flash! How all things flare!)
What am I now that I was then?
May memory restore again and again
The smallest color of the smallest day:
Time is the school in which we learn,
Time is the fire in which we burn. 
Delmore Schwartz

(I read this book, which led me to this poem, which reminded me to appreciate.
Appreciate my loved ones, the beauties around me, and myself, right at this moment, how we all are.)

1 comment:

  1. Thanks for sharing :) We all need to appreciate more.

    ReplyDelete

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