Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Enjoying the dance

My words are not important
My thoughts are of no consequence
My actions speak poorly of what I live for
It is only by His mercy that I am His

Winds blow the open grassy places bleak;
But where this old wall burns a sunny cheek,
They eddy over it too toppling weak
To blow the earth or anything self-clear;
Moisture and color and odor thicken here.
The hours of daylight gather atmosphere.

Robert Frost

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