Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. -- Mark Twain
not wanting autumn yet, but this is lovely
April, the U.S.'s National Month of Poetry is over, but I just had to post this lovely poem by Keats to really wrap things up. You may remember the opening line of this poem is quoted in "Bridget Jones' Diary"--ah, Hugh Grant, you cad!
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring Working together; literally, to conspire is “to breathe together” (OED)
with him how to load and bless Conspiring Working together; literally, to conspire is “to breathe together” (OED)
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves
thatch-eves Thatch-eaves, the edge of thatched roofs
run; thatch-eves Thatch-eaves, the edge of thatched roofs
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing
winnowing Separating the wheat from the chaff, the heavy from the light
wind; winnowing Separating the wheat from the chaff, the heavy from the light
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner
gleaner One who gathers the remaining food after the reaper has harvested the field
thou dost keep gleaner One who gathers the remaining food after the reaper has harvested the field
Steady thy laden
laden Loaded down
head across a brook; laden Loaded down
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?
Every time we try to identify God, we are sure to identify what he is —
what she is certainly not. And the genius of God to dwell where we would
least likely look, within the depths of our own being, our own
shallowness, our own darkness, our own humanity. --Martin Sheen
My friend Pamerama was kind enough to share this great, On Being, podcast interview of Martin Sheen. I chose to read the podcast interview transcript instead, to I might better process Sheen's statements.
I too am Catholic, but you don't need to be to enjoy. Sheen examines his return journey to faith and spirituality, and it's just wonderful.
A great read before New Years revelry.
Happiest New Years' Eve to you and yours! Be safe, be merry, be young tonight!
If you need to be reminded why you became a Librarian, or why libraries are amazing places, and still so relevant in the 21st century, watch this and be inspired.
“If you are a dreamer come in If you are a dreamer a wisher a liar A hoper a pray-er a magic-bean-buyer If youre a pretender com sit by my fire For we have some flax golden tales to spin Come in! Come in!” --Shel Silverstein
Come and support Gould Farm (the oldest therapeutic community in the United States), as they embark on their 5k Running for Recovery! Can't make it?! You can still support them, just check out the above link.